


Alphas and Betas: Purification

by Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bigotry & Prejudice, Mpreg, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Pregnancy, but without the Omega
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot/pseuds/Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reboot of my fic <a href="https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8219396/1/Alphas-and-Betas">Alphas and Betas</a>.</p>
<p>Ichigo has matured as a Human, he's obtained the pinnacle of Shinigami powers, but growing up as a Hollow brings new surprises. And a new threat on the horizon does not bode well for the Visored and his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are, the beginning of the rewrite. Ahh, I'm so excited! I hope you'll all enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it! This won't be updated on any specific day though, not like a lot of the others I have going. Basically I'm a couple chapters ahead in the writing process, and what I'm gonna do is post a new chapter here when I finish a chapter's rough draft. But I've got like 5 other fics I'm working on at the same time, so things might get a little random as far as my posting goes. At least until April. X''D
> 
> ANYWAY! Without much further ado... WELCOME TO THE REBOOT OF ALPHAS & BETAS! ((treat it sorta like FMA: Brotherhood XD))

It all started with a fever a month before his twenty-first birthday. Nothing special. Just a couple of degrees too high. Considering he normally ran low for a Human, when his father saw the records on his digital thermometer, they read like textbook for normal. So no one asked questions. It didn't affect his sparring skills or his concentration. So no one noticed.

A lot of things were starting to go unnoticed from the redhead's point of view. Kisuke kept complaining about not knowing how to break through some kind of "wall" in his power, as though the cap on his abilities was a physical block in his mind, like the side of a skyscraper. It confused Ichigo to no end. He didn't feel any such "wall". On his side of things, the training just wasn't hard enough. After Mugetsu and regaining his powers nothing had really felt like it took any effort anymore.

But especially as he built up to his birthday.

So, in a way, when his temperature spiked another degree, and it started making him sleepy and hot all the time, he welcomed the challenge. It helped him focus. Renji made the comment that it felt like he was getting sharper, and Ichigo had to agree at the end of that spar, which had also included Byakuya and Rukia, he had felt like he was directing his power, be it sword, mask, or kido, with a harder, thinner edge. Like Senbonzakura's petals.

The end of July and all of August brought another climb in his temperature, though he'd long stopped using his father's equipment to measure it. Soul Society's stipend was more than enough for an ear thermometer. And living alone in an apartment near the Shoten helped hide his napping habits from his family, both blood and adopted.

He started living like a cat, grabbing fifteen minutes here, half an hour there, and never more than four hours at night in the lull between moonset and dawn. It showed a little. Shadows appeared under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks, but nothing more than what was normal for someone with as much reiatsu as he had. Kisuke offered dampeners to give him a real rest, but they did nothing for the firestorm building in his mindscape.

By October he couldn't spar anymore.

He was too distracted, burning up and jumpy. Though his power hadn't diminished at all, the feel of it was wild. Harder than steel, but tempered into a razor's edge. He sliced Kisuke's hat clean in half with a Getsuga Tensho that was no bigger than his hand, and didn't touch a hair on his sensei's head.

Since that incident he hadn't seen his mentor—the secretive Shinigami declared he needed to do research and promptly threw his student out. He'd been left to his own devices and he was restless. He couldn't sleep. The reiatsu limiter broke after a couple of days. Repeated messages sent to the Visoreds had gone unanswered, and though he had heard from Goat Face, Midget, and Hime-chan… he really didn't want to talk to any of them right now. All three grated on his nerves in the worse way. On top of his fever getting worse, accompanied with body aches because the human body was not supposed to hover around a hundred and one degrees for extended periods of time, listening to any one of them nagging at him about being reclusive lately was just asking for more Micro-Tensho shots to be fired off.

He thumbed the repeat button on his mp3 player again, and cast his eyes over the pattern of scorch marks in his ceiling. The landlady would bitch at him when she found it, but the focus was keeping him entertained while the voice, gravelly in an almost familiar way, soothed the perpetual itch like sand under his scales.

He tucked his lip into his teeth, closed one eye, and flicked his middle finger from about nose level.

The tiny black and red reiatsu blade exploded in a flash of tightly controlled fire to add a new smudge to the portrait over his head. Why he was sketching one of the most irritating assholes he'd ever crossed blades with, he didn't know. But there he was, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, etched in painstaking realism across the plaster of Ichigo's bedroom ceiling, using nothing but micro-sized kido-like blades.

He would have laughed if it didn't make him cringe in pain across his belly.

A flashing light across the room told him his cell phone was going off again. He contemplated for longer than he wanted to admit about whether he could get away with blowing it up, but it was likely Kisuke had the damn thing rigged so that it _couldn't_ be destroyed _just_ in case that thought crossed his mind. Oh well, whoever it was could go to voicemail just like all the others. He didn't have anywhere he needed to… be… oh fuck!

His eyes landed on the calendar above his desk, conveniently also above his cell phone, and in the dimmed light of his room the backlight illuminated the date. Chad was flying home from Mexico today! And he'd completely forgotten!

Shit shit shit!

Tearing his headphones from his ears, Ichigo dashed off the bed, hopping on one foot to pull his socks on. His jeans brought him to his door, but he then had to go back for his phone, keys, and wallet. He actually got all the way to his living room before he realized he was shirtless. Cursing loudly he cheated, flash stepping into the closet for the first clean-ish tee shirt he could find. A windbreaker to keep off the chill, and he was running full speed out of his door.

He glanced at his phone for the time, and swore again, pouring on more speed. He had ten minutes to get across town to the airport.

Skidding to a stop just outside the mall, both of his hands flew to his hair at the crowd. There was no way he was going to be able to fight through all of the people trying to get a jump on their Christmas shopping. Plus the way Karakura celebrated Halloween, it was a wonder people didn't try to call it Hollow-een. He growled, eyes darting for a way through, and practically vibrating with the need to get to his best friend.

He didn't poke too closely at that feeling, nor did he pay much attention when his mind immediately jumped to the rooftops. If it worked in Soul Society…

And he was off, flash stepping with a particular sound from telephone pole to telephone pole, uncaring whether people below him saw what he was doing. He had a pack member to connect with!

His arrival at the airport was met with Rukia's hand across the back of his head, "Where have you been, idiot!? We've been calling you all morning!"

"AH! I didn't hear my phone! Damnit, Midget! Knock it off!" He growled back, leaning into her personal space.

She scrunched up her nose, red blossoming across her cheeks and forehead as she wound up for one of her famous dressing-downs, but Renji shoved his way between them with a grunt and a hand on each of their faces.

"We ain't got time fer this shit! Sado's plane landed a minnit ago. C'mon!" The crimson haired male rolled his eyes.

Rukia stalked off, a bit put out by being silenced, but more interested in greeting their old friend than carrying out the ranting it would have taken to properly chastise both men. Renji shook his head at her and sighed before looking at Ichigo.

"Ya look like shit."

"Gee, thanks." Ever irritated by those few inches the older Shinigami had on him, Ichigo's trademark glare settled between his brows, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Next you're gonna tell me I stink too right?"

"Well, I wasn't gonna bring it up but…"

"Seriously, Renji!?"

The other redhead at least had the decency to look uncomfortable about having been caught on that admission, but Ichigo didn't give him a chance to say anything. He shoved his way past into the terminal with another growl.

When Renji caught up, he groused, "You've been hanging out with Byakuya too much."

"Look, it's not that ya stink. Ya just…" The Shinigami blanched under the weight of an umber brow daring him to explain. "There's this… I dunno what the fuck it is… I can smell it but I can't. It's there but it ain't. It's hard ta explain damnit!"

"Well that was downright helpful." The glare darkened, and Ichigo shook his head. "Not that it's any of your business, but I did shower today. So fuck off with your 'ya stink but ya don't' shit."

"Geez! Sorry! I was just tryin' to help. Yer all tense and grouchy."

Around them Orihime and Rukia were waving like crazy at the window that gave them a view of the tarmac, Tatsuki was playing cards with Kyouraku's lieutenant, Uryuu was sewing something as usual, Keigo wandered past visibly shaken by whatever Mizuiro had just said, and Yoruichi was laughing uproariously at something Kyouraku himself said, probably in connection to Mizuiro's comment, as the captain was sitting with them. The rest of the airport was equally as busy, and just as noisy, so none of them stood out, surprisingly. Having a captain from Soul Society was wild enough; the fact that he was this one in particular was a hundred times worse, even with his lieutenant there for reiatsu suppression and personal control. How that had been managed no one mentioned. They just all accepted that the boisterous Shinigami wanted to be there to welcome Chad home.

Over the years of working with Soul Society, most of them had just come to the conclusion it was better that way. Fewer headaches.

Ichigo didn't pay any of them much attention though. Renji was right. He was on edge, tense across the shoulders, and his hand kept flexing like he was carrying Zangetsu. His eyes shifted from one target to the next, mapping out the exits, calculating the thickness of the glass, developing strategies for how to get away if he needed to quickly. And his reiatsu sang! The tight control he exerted meant that none of them noticed his wasn't wearing his limiter, but it contributed to his overall unease just the same.

He jumped violently when Renji's hand came down on his shoulder, and a flash of something snapped through his eyes under his scowl when he focused on his Nakama.

"Dude. Chill. When's the last time ya got the Old Man out and went ta town on someone?" The taller redhead was also frowning, concerned.

"Honestly I'm not sure. Geta-boshi's been holed up ever since I killed his hat. If he hadn't given me the 'I've gotta do science' expression before he booted me out, I'd have thought I insulted him when I did it." Ichigo scoffed, rolling his shoulder to get it back from the other's grip—there was just something about the bigger redhead—an undercurrent of reiatsu and scent on Ichigo's tongue that brought to mind sakura trees and lavender—that made his discomfort worse.

Renji removed it without comment, choosing instead to cross his arms over his chest and scowl in concentration. "The party don't start fer a good four-five hours after Sado gets in, why not come back ta the Eleventh and let'em wail on ya? Burn off some'a this energy you got locked up in there?"

"Hm."

The girls surged forward as Chad stepped out of the security gate, and he had to drop his duffle bag in order to scoop both women up into his arms at once. He was dressed as he usually was, but he was significantly darker than normal. He also seemed bigger.

From Ichigo's perspective, the half-Mexican took up twice the space he used to, and it did strange things to the workings of his mindscape. On one hand, his mouth went dry and he made a little sound of want that was just too low for Renji to hear, but on the other, his reiatsu surged against his mental barriers, nearly singing in a watery voice to be let loose because _look at him!_

Never before had the substitute Shinigami felt anything like that. Not for anyone, though plenty had tried. He'd even consented to attempting to date Orihime and Rukia _and_ Renji! But not a one of them had ever socked him in the gut with want like that—which if he was honest was why it had failed all three times.

Somewhere in the haze of sensation, the thought that maybe this was what it was like for other people all the time crossed his mind, immediately followed by the desire to never feel it again.

But at the same time, the _desire_ just wasn't something he wanted to act on. At least not in any way that he'd ever been told he was supposed to act on it. No dates. No movies. No flowers. He didn't even want to go up and kiss Chad.

It took him several seconds to realize he wanted to _fight_ him! And with _those_ overtones!

Always one to control his own mind, Ichigo ripped his attention from the burly Fullbringer, and nodded at Renji. "Yeah. That's a good idea. When you head back, grab me, and send word to Kenpachi, I want them all." He started to move forward, only to pause, "Eh… Better warn Yama-jii too." He gave a sheepish smile, "Wouldn't want him thinking I'm mad at him this time."

The older redhead laughed loudly, drawing several people's attentions. "As if Soutaicho's stupid enough to piss you off again!"

"Yeah."

Laughing was good, laughing was helpful… laughing was in _no way_ painful because of spasms of his abdominal muscles, and Ichigo absolutely didn't end the conversation there because he needed to walk out the cramp.

If Renji noticed, he didn't comment on it, but other eyes in the group did. Yoruichi raised an eyebrow, then snapped a picture of the berry boy and shot it off to Kisuke with a caption about using reiatsu filters on it. She took several more with Shunsui glancing over her shoulder while the young substitute Shinigami greeted his high school friend. They shook hands, a tension between them that wasn't visible on the surface, and they laughed, as though the tension didn't exist. They made small talk, ignoring the way Orihime kept picking at her hairpins where they were tucked into her pocket. The giant and the hybrid met on even footing, and made every reiatsu sensitive person in the airport aware that only their long-standing bond as Nakama kept their immense abilities under control.

After they moved off with the other humans, Yoruichi flipped back through the photographs on her phone, a concerned frown growing darker as she read further into the hidden interactions between the two. Kisuke was going to have to seriously work this out, because if she was seeing that she thought she was seeing… Soul Society's youngest weapon of mass destruction was going to meltdown in absolutely the worst way possible.

Emerging into Seireitei a short time later, and after seeing Chad back to his apartment, Ichigo realized they never had sent word ahead to the sotaicho that he was coming. A split-second decision led to him pulsing his reiatsu high enough to rattle the reishi-powered alarm system. While not technically what Uryuu and Kisuke had originally designed it for, Ichigo had found over the years that it was an effective messaging system. Even if Kurotsuchi didn't agree with that idea. If the redhead had to be honest with himself, the fact that it gave the Twelfth's captain a little extra work away from his disgusting experiments was a large portion of why he kept brushing off Yama-jii's reprimands about using Hell butterflies.

So with his message sent, to the tune of Renji shaking his head while trying not to laugh, the duo set off for the Eleventh, and some much needed stress relief.

"Kurosaki!" The booming captain's voice brought heads up all over the open space in the center of the squad's barracks.

Ichigo appeared in the middle of it all, one hand on the ground, the other one Zangetsu's hilt, and uncharacteristically grinned up at the gathered officers. An unspoken clash of reiatsu brought a cackle from Ikkaku's lips, and in the blink of an eye blades were drawn all around the division.

The clang of steel on steel was nearly drowned out by the shouting and cheering, even as the unseated members were floored. In the Eleventh it was better to be knocked unconscious than to hold back. So in very little time the small fry were eliminated, leaving only Kenpachi himself, and his strongest officers. To Ichigo's back, Renji squared off against Ikkaku, and Yumichika's four prong sickle ground against Zangetsu's edge with a shower of sparks. Not wanting to be left out of a fight like this, Kenpachi brought his battered katana around, though who he was aiming for wasn't all that clear, only to be met by the back end of Zangetsu's hilt, near where the bandages ended.

Both captain and Third Seat laughed, baring their teeth, a sentiment that was echoed back from the two guests, though not quite as feral, and the Fifth Seat, too proud to display his bloodlust out loud, merely tossed his head to look down his nose at all four of them. Zabimaru's fangs wrapped around Houzokumaru. Zangetsu parried Ruri'iro Kujaku. And the Nameless One sang with her master's killing intent between the two. Dust, blood, sweat, and broken concrete clouded the air around them to the point that even Yachiru cheering on the barracks' roof couldn't see them.

Then something happened.

Out of nowhere, reiatsu exploded through the division, blowing away the debris and unconscious Shinigami alike. The little fukutaicho had to plant her sword into the thatching to hold on, blinking watery eyes against the onslaught of power. Renji found himself pinned against a wall with Ikkaku on one side and Kenpachi on the other. Somehow in the middle of the sparring ring, Yumichika and Ichigo stood face to face in the center of the maelstrom, hair and clothes whipping in the wind.

Zangetsu's ribbon-bandage had two of Ruri'iro's curves trapped as the 'fabric' was made of Ichigo's reiatsu, meaning it couldn't be cut, and the position had his over-sized Khyber knife's edge pressed against Yumichika's throat. An energy, vicious and wild, was passing between the two where the taller Shinigami had an eyebrow raised and the younger's lip was pulled back in a violent snarl. Neither pressed forward, but of course neither moved back either. Time seemed to stop, breath held, and though the two higher seated members of the Eleventh grumbled about the interrupted fight, all three of them had to admit their curiosity about what was going on with the vibrant hybrid.

"CALL IT!" Ichigo demanded. "I _dare_ you!"

Yumichika sniffed, his eyes narrowing, "You know _nothing!"_

The redhead pushed forward, another small flare of power, and the other shivered. The disparity between them was so immense that under the weight of Ichigo's aura, Yumichika seemed to disappear, and yet, somehow he was still holding his ground. The trick was in his shikai, and Renji blinked before glancing at a grumpy Kenpachi. The captain's nose was scrunched up in disappointment, but neither he nor Ikkaku seemed too surprised by the turn of events. The older redhead had always known his former division partners were stronger than their seat assignments—he, himself, was actually captain-level according to the scaling method used by the Kido Corps—but to be this much stronger without fully releasing his blade… Suddenly Hisagi's drunken mumblings about reiatsu-eating flowers made a little bit more sense.

Yet another whip of black and red power brought Renji's attention back to the matter at hand, as the blades between them whined with the pressure of it. Ichigo yelled in Yumichika's face, a watery undertone to his voice that sent chills down Renji's spine.

Then they broke apart.

The power died, allowing some of the more hearty members to pick themselves up off the ground, and releasing the three held against the wall. Yachiru poked her head back up over the peak of the roof, unaffected by having been pinned down. Over all she looked just like a confused kitten, and Renji couldn't say he disagreed with that sentiment. Though he hung back, a trait he'd picked up from his current captain, Kenpachi and Ikkaku, true to Eleventh form, shoved their way to where Ichigo was still gripping Zangetsu.

He looked downright spooked. A tension in his frame vibrated all the way down to his knees. His eyes darted from Yumichika to the approaching Kenpachi, and Renji watched the decision flash across his face just before the vibrant hybrid disappeared.

Few people could keep up with Ichigo's flash step, and not a one of them was currently available to chase him down. So it left the gathered Shinigami with little recourse but to wait until Ichigo decided to return.

Ikkaku shoved Yumi's shoulder with a growl as Renji finally re-joined the center of the sparring ring. Looking up at his old captain he shook his head. The timing of Yachiru landing on Kenpachi's shoulder made it impossible to tell if the big man's grunt was a response to the redhead's unspoken explanation or to his daughter's sudden appearance.

Regardless, his disgruntled attitude kept the usual din at little more than a dull roar.

"Ken-chan, c'mon! Let's go find Ichi!" Yachiru demanded brightly, pulling on his hair.

"No." That brought some attention. Even Ikkaku and Yumichika stopped arguing to listen to their captain's out of the ordinary response. He continued before the little girl could protest, "Ain't no fun beatin' a man what ain't got his heart in the fight."

Yachiru rounded on Yumi, hanging precariously from her perch, "Feathers! What'd you do to Ichi!?"

"Nothing." He flipped his hair, affronted. "I merely withstood his dare and in doing so he panicked. Don't ask me what's going on in his head. The ugly look of fear on his face had nothing to do with me."

He sniffed as though the very implication was an insult to his honor.

Ikkaku rolled his eyes, "Ya had to've done somethin'. One minute ya two're deadlocked, head ta head, and the next… poof!"

"What's up with that anyway?" Renji saw fit to remind them that he was still there.

The sly smile on Yumichika's face was more telling than his words, "A true warrior never reveals his secrets."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Full Intro Art](http://sta.sh/01ek9egv4xw9)


	2. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have much to say here, other than thank you all for your support! I've had a lot of really nice reviews so far. =D

“I’m really sorry, Sado-san.” Rukia sighed. “I just don’t know why he isn’t here. Even if certain idiots took him to Soul Society when they shouldn’t have—“

“Oi!”

“—it doesn’t excuse him not welcoming you home.”

The pint-sized Shinigami didn’t even acknowledge that her childhood friend had said anything. She sipped at her drink and leaned against the wall of the Shoten, enjoying the night air alongside the party’s guest of honor. The worry for their missing friend pinched the place between her brows, but she was trying not to let it show. Tonight was supposed to be about Chad, not Ichigo. No matter how strangely the substitute Shinigami had been behaving lately.

Downstairs in the not-so-secret training ground, Orihime and Jackie were introducing the Usual Crowd, minus Renji, to beer pong, which the busty ginger had picked up during her semester overseas. A loud shout of triumph meant either someone had scored well, or Kira had managed to get the ball into Rangiku’s ample cleavage. Whichever it was, Renji pouted towards the ladder. It wasn’t his fault Ichigo took off and couldn’t be found. If anything it was Yumichika’s, but was he out there keeping watch with them? No! He was inside with the others, watching Ikkaku get drunk and planning to get himself laid.

The redhead scowled at his almost sister. Damn her fist! It was a wonder he wasn’t suffering from brain damage with as often as she smacked him! She hadn’t been as liberal with it before he’d started dating her brother.

“It won’t be long now.” Chad broke into their thoughts, seemingly amused by the way both jumped.

“Are you sure, Sado?” Renji asked, picking up on the unspoken half of that comment.

Rukia blinked for a moment, wondering when her best friend had learned how to read people so well. Then she coughed, “You shouldn’t be alone while you’re waiting for him though, what if he shows up when you leave to grab a drink or something?”

“Or something.” Chad rumbled with a reassuring smile.

Renji nudged her, a teasing light in his eyes, “C’mon, Ru. Bet I can bounce that ball into Hime-chan’s shirt with my eyes closed.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort! Oh my God, Renji!” Rukia chased him into the Shoten, outraged at the implications and blushing furiously at the mental image.

Consequently Chad was left alone. He smiled after them, sipping his own beer. His eyes lifted to the roof and he saluted the shadowed figure with the bottle.

They didn’t need words for the big man to know his friend welcomed him home, and the friend knew his absence would only be felt by those who had lost that level of synchronization with him. Like the people that had practically abandoned him after he lost his powers.

When he allowed himself to think about it, it boiled his blood. During his time of service they had easily found every excuse in the book to visit him. Snatching up the Geta-boshi’s gigai left and right to barge into his school, demand his help, and all without giving a damn whether he actually had time to do so or not. All that had changed after Mugetsu, and trapping Aizen. He had waited for them; helping Kisuke around the shop, hanging out with the Visored—half out of the hope that their reiatsu would help, and half because he needed the contact for reasons he didn’t like to examine too closely—and when Chad introduced him to the Fullbringers… Well, he’d gotten tired of waiting.

They could have looked into using a gigai to keep in contact, like they always had before, or spoken through someone who _could_ see spirits. Hell, he wasn't picky, he'd have been content with letters. He might even have finally learned how to use the butterfly system.

But none of them had.

Two years and not a one of the friends he'd made in Soul Society made any concentrated effort to keep in contact with him. It made him bitter sometimes, he knew that, but it was hard to remember anyone cared beyond the exiles and the Shinigami rejects when they were the only people outside of his family that made an effort.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Ichigo nodded at the salute. Then the Fullbringer ducked inside, leaving the now-restored substitute Shinigami to enjoy his solitude. It wasn’t long after that the cry of a Hollow rent the night sky, and Zangetsu was in his hand before he’d even touched the ground.

The transition from pill to body left a certain Mod Soul scrabbling for the apex of the shop’s roof to avoid falling. “OI!! BASTARD! You can’t just go shoving me in your pocket every time you wanna--” Kon cut himself off, muttering, “The Hell have you been up to, Ichigo…”

He felt drained and exhausted, and he knew it wasn’t him! It came from the hybrid’s body. The joints ached and the skin felt sensitive and clammy. Copper sat heavily on the tongue, like the taste of a broken fever. It was all he could do just to hold on, hidden behind the rise of the shop in case the Adjuchas got away from his counterpart. It was unlikely, granted, but for once in his egotistical life, Kon wasn’t so sure he could handle it on his own. Not with the way their body was affected by Ichigo’s illness. All he could hope to do was peer over the roof and watch the fight, hoping Ichigo wasn’t so weakened that he needed help.

Because that was what the Mod Soul found most odd… the sickness followed the redhead’s soul.

Below, the rest of the party didn’t take notice of the other-worldly intruder until a wave of reiatsu flared across them all so hot that it evaporated all of the alcohol in the Shoten. Including what was floating about in people’s bloodstreams. Shunsui and Rangiku hadn’t been that sober in years! And they couldn’t say they appreciated the sensation.

“What is it? Arrancar back for more?” The captain of the Eighth flash stepped outside to join Yoruichi in the yard.

“You could say something like that, Shun.”

Most of the others weren’t far behind, and by the time she answered they were all gathered in the empty space in front of Kisuke’s shop. Her mouth was set in a hard line and her attention was focused on a children’s park just down the road a bit from where they stood.

Or rather she was focused on the air above the park.

Another roar had the whole group grabbing at their weapons. Chad’s Devil Fist flared into life in the same breath as Ishida’s bow and a round of steel slid free of their sheaths from the visiting Shinigami. Not one or two Adjuchas-class Hollows but a whole half dozen had emerged over the city. All of them were trained on the man that had been the topic of earlier conversation as he darted from Hollow to Hollow, cleansing each with a vicious cleave of his daito.

“Why is he in bankai? They’re not even Menos.” The Quincy scowled.

“Kon!” Kisuke called, sounding more serious than usual, “How long?”

The Mod Soul squeaked and tumbled down from his hiding place. “It’s been an hour!” He whined, “I’m exhausted…”

The shopkeeper gave his signature smile, a hand on his hat, “Maybe if you ask really nicely Rukia-chan will let you snuggle with her in your sleep.”

“OI!!” The midget Shinigami fumed, “Don’t just make these decisions on your own, Geta-boshi!”

Kon looked pleadingly to her, and she started shaking her head even before the words formed on his borrowed lips. Kisuke’s giggle had her whipping back around towards him, murder on her face, only to find the dirty blond racing off down the road. She wasn’t but a breath behind him, in spite of knowing she’d never catch him. So she turned her attention to aiding Ichigo.

At her inspiration, and Kyouraku’s nod as ranking officer, the team fanned out to cover the impromptu invasion of Hollows across the whole town. They worked in pairs, as luring the Adjuchas away from the vibrant hybrid proved to be surprisingly difficult even for the captain-class Shinigami among them. When they were still coming after half an hour’s work, none of the berry’s allies were surprised that he donned his mask; the second wave of reiatsu just as hot and sobering as the first.

Fortunately, it also paralyzed the Adjuchas such that it was only a matter of seconds before they were all cleansed and sent on their way. Much to the Shinigami’s relief.

As suddenly as it came, the whole thing was over. Ichigo’s impossible reiatsu dissipated like a heatwave before an Autumn rain. Not having seemed to move from where he’d pulled on his mask, the redhead appeared to be utterly drained, his aura banked so far that the less sensitive members of the party actually had a hard time spotting him as he began to fall out of the sky.

Yoruichi snatched him up and brought him back to the Shoten unconscious.

“Quickly now, back into his body!” Kisuke bustled Kon into one of the back rooms along with the other two, but something was very wrong.

As soon as Kon had returned to the lion plushie, and Ichigo was laid down, the twenty-one year old started to convulse. His head snapped back, mouth open and foaming at the corners. Yoruichi and Kisuke dove on him to keep him from thrashing off of the futon.

“Tessai! He’s burning up! We need ice!!” the cat woman shouted.

“And somebody get Shinji!” Kisuke added, working a tongue depressor between the younger man’s teeth.

Most of the onlookers sequestered themselves in the Shoten’s dining/living room around the low table they always used for meetings. Renji went for the Visored pack leader and Orihime made tea since Tessai was in the room with Ichigo. Shunsui sent a Hell butterfly to Unohana, apprising her of the situation, while Rangiku and Hisagi returned to Seireitei to report what had happened with the Hollows and to get more booze. The strawberry blonde was sure they were all going to need it before the night was over. And all the while the sounds coming from Ichigo’s room were not hopeful.

Something had to be significantly wrong for Kisuke to curse like that.

The relief brought on by the arrival of the Visoreds was short-lived as everything dissolved into further chaos. Sheer luck and Shinji's gut instinct had brought Hachigen along when Renji showed up, and the Visored leader was immediately grateful for the foresight. He hauled Kisuke out of Ichigo’s room to make space for the large kido master, and spun the shopkeeper in the direction of his living room with a whispered order in the younger blond’s ear. The Usual Crowd, Captain Kyouraku, and the rest of Chad’s welcome home party were then bustled down into the training ground by a much frazzled Kisuke, who tried to bolt away again immediately after the last was off the ladder. Ichigo was in trouble and they needed to heal him. Quickly.

Just before an outcropping of rock, Orihime planted her feet and glared, “What about my Fullbring?! I’ve helped Unohana-san many times since the Winter War, won’t that do anything for Kurosaki-kun!?”

The look of tired worry on the shopkeeper’s face floored her, but his concise words were worse. “At this point, Hime-chan, you’d only kill him faster.”

“K-k-kill?” Her voice wavered and instantly Rukia was there, wrapping her arms around the other woman’s waist and pulling her away.

“C’mon, Ori, let’s let them work. Trust Urahara-san and the others. They know what they’re doing. Don’t worry. Everything will work out fine…” Her voice trailed off as they rejoined Chad and Uryuu.

A short while later, Kira leaned over, a hand on Orihime’s shoulder, “If you have a shield that absorbs reiatsu, now would be the time to use it. I don’t like the feel of Tessai-san’s kido.”

The ginger-haired woman only had a moment to react before everything went to Hell.

Her shield popped out, larger than it had ever been when she was a teen, and encapsulated the whole group of them in an orange bubble while the world around them exploded into a billion tiny shards of burning atoms. She nearly screamed at the pull against her fairies, the whole bubble slipping several inches forward, but almost as soon as it began, the buffeting winds fell. Orihime opened her eyes, unaware of when she’d closed them, to find Momo and Kira to either side of her, a pale blue fabric-like kido stretched across the front of her Fullbring shield. The three exchanged a glance of solidarity, standing firm against the draw of gravity outside of their safe zone. Another lurch brought Rukia and Yumichika’s hands into the mix, then Chad, Renji, and Ikkaku, because they couldn’t help with securing the kido for fear of the whole bubble blowing up, braced themselves against the back to keep it from moving any further forward. The three big men were like anchors, their weapons solid enough to create corners in the kido bubble that only strengthened Santen Kesshun's natural triangular shape.

Just as Jackie and Riruka were beginning to work out how safe everyone would be inside Riruka’s Fullbring, there came a tap on the outside of the bubble that drew their attention.

“Hime-chan,” Kisuke’s voice was breathless, “you can rest now. Momo-chan and Kira-kun as well.”

The opaque energy disappeared almost immediately, but what greeted them looked like the epicenter of a supernova.

Above them, the Shoten was in ruins. The shop itself had been vaporized, exposing the training ground to the pre-dawn sky without a single cloud to be seen for miles in any direction. All around the rocks and ground were scorched, toasted to charcoal.

Signs of other kido, with a lingering signature from both Hachigen and Tessai, were littered all about the impact zone. Between the two kido masters, they’d been able to contain the explosion of pure power, at least for the most part. From the way the air crackled around them it was clear that had any of them been directly exposed to it, they would have been consumed by it.

Whether it was Orihime’s Fullbring that gave her the knowledge or her experience with kido and reiatsu manipulation working with the Fourth, the young woman was able to read the story of what had happened in the scars left behind. She paced the length of the burn mark tracing it with her eyes and unconsciously holding her arms around her ribs. The way the rocks crumbled and the air felt stale reminded her of her time in Hueco Mundo, causing shivers to run down her spine, and she chewed on her lip, barely aware that anyone was talking nearby.

“…thought when it rebounded on the shield like that it was going to break through.” Kyouraku was frowning at Shinji.

Hachi responded, “We’re very lucky that it collapsed in on itself.”

“If it hadn’t, we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation, Hachi. It’s likely it would have burned through the fabric of reality the way it was going. It’s a wonder you and Tessai don’t have reaction headaches.” The pack leader sounded worried, and his body language screamed that he wanted to inspect the other Visored but was holding himself back because of the situation.

The pink-haired man shook his head, “We have Inoue-san to thank for that. Somehow her shield was more supportive than ours was draining us. I only wish it would have had the same effect on Ichigo-san.”

“Yes, well, it would have gone faster and easier if the Fourth had been here on time.” Yoruichi groused, only to be pulled away from where the others were discussing things by a hand on her elbow.

Ikkaku picked up where she’d left off, “So there was nothin’ ya could do fer him?”

“His body was the focal point of the whole singularity, Madarame-kun.” Tessai spoke for the first time.

Yumichika sniffed. “Such a beautiful word for such an ugly situation.”

Renji growled and rolled his eyes, “So what’re ya sayin’?”

“Put simply,” Kira joined them, and drew the rest of the party-goers’ attention, “if we wanted to save Ichigo’s body, we would have had to do something before the fight with the Adjuchas. By the time anybody tried to do anything, he was already dead. This whole thing was his body catching up to that fact.”

At that moment the Senkaimon opened on the other side of the training ground. Iemura gave a wave at them, and the permanent residents of Soul Society made a hasty farewell so they could clear the Dangai before the EMTs had to transport Ichigo’s unconscious soul form through it. It left the Visoreds, the Fullbringers, and the Quincy standing near to where the bubble had been feeling uncomfortable and caught somewhere between relief that it was over, and grieving for their Nakama.

Off to the side, Kisuke shoved a bundle of clothing and Kon’s stuffed lion toy into Yoruichi’s arms. Somehow, miraculously, all of it was still intact, in spite of the reiatsu flames that had been hot enough to burn through the former captain’s personal kido wards. The Shihoin clan leader gaped at him, but he didn’t give her time to actually say anything. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes darting to the Visored pack leader, then flashed off to follow his student through the transient world.

“There’s no doubt about it now.” Shinji sucked on his teeth after the Senkaimon closed. “It’s what we figured was going to happen.”

Yoruichi frowned down at the bundle in her arms, clutching it tighter to her chest. “You’re sure they can handle the…”

“Kensei was the captain of his division before I was promoted.” The blond man cut her off. “He’s senior Alpha.”

“But…” She seemed reluctant now that Kisuke was beyond her ability to contact.

“We’ve had practice at this you know. Trust me, Yoru.”

“I do! We just don’t have any examples quite that strong is all. Berry’s got reiatsu wells deep enough to hold a kido for twenty years before burnout. That’s without his mastery of bankai.”

“Which takes a hundred years.”

“Exactly!” The cat woman sounded half proud and half terrified. “Can you even imagine one that strong? Even yours isn’t!”

“I suspect that’s exactly why his soul made it through everything in the first place.”

Scowling at her fellow exile, Yoruichi allowed that information to roll around in her head for a while, gently rocking from foot to foot as though she was impatient to be off. Gold eyes scanned the room. There were too few people left to just take off, she needed a distraction.

As though she’d read the darker woman’s thoughts, Orihime dared to step closer, “So… Kurosaki-kun is…?”

“Dead. Yes, Hime-chan.” Shinji supplied, turning to gather the rest of them to him. He sucked his teeth when a sigh of relief went through most of them, “We ain’t out of the woods yet. He’s still gotta wake up.”

“Yeah, but between Hime-chan and your Unohana, he’s liable to do it, ain’t he?” Jackie asked, leaning a little closer to Chad.

He smiled down at her reassuringly, and that cleared any insecurity she might have had, making her cross her arms under her breasts and draw her spine up straight again. She hadn’t been worried, nope, not at all. Behind her, the larger man merely smiled a little more broadly.

“Kurosaki seems to be master of the impossible.” Uryuu sniffed, adjusting his glasses to cover his own emotions. “He’s never let us down before, so I see little reason to doubt him now.”

“Here here!” Riruka lifted her wine cooler and deliberately clinked it against one of the rocks that was still standing, determined to get the mood away from sober. “Let’s take the rest of this party back to Xcution and finish welcoming Sado home! When Ichi wakes up, he can join us, and until then, we’ll just party without him!”

The others murmured their agreements, even if they weren’t quite as enthusiastic, and followed the pink-haired Fullbringer in flash stepping out of the former training ground.

With their departure, Shinji nodded discreetly to Yoruichi. The stealth mistress took off with her bundle. Only those who had reason to suspect something was being hidden noticed the dark woman slip away. It was Uryuu that saw the bundle move, and Chad that heard it coo. Being the last ones to flash step where the ladder used to be, the Fullbringer and the Quincy exchanged a look, but neither actually said anything out loud.

It was impossible after all.

For one, Ichigo was biologically male. They both knew that from gym class when they were in high school. And for another, even if they ignored the previous fact, to be that size would have made it at least six months old! _Someone_ would have noticed! Freaky Shinigami nonsense or not!

At the very least Kisuke…

Uryuu raised his eyebrow at the empty place where the Senkaimon had been.

An uncertain scowl was Chad’s response.

No, there was no way. All Yoruichi had in her arms was Kon and some clothing. She was probably off to tell Ichigo’s father what had happened in better detail than the retired captain could have sensed. That was all.

Both young men nodded once in agreement of their silent conversation. Shinigami hybrid or not there was no way Ichigo could have been pregnant.

Inside Ichigo’s mindscape a desert wind whipped the buildings, cracking the glass from the sheer heat involved. The redhead himself collapsed onto his elbows and knees, his hands over his ears to block out his own screaming. It felt like being barbequed alive.

Clawing at his face, the Visored drove himself across the surface of the glass windows with the singular purpose of rending his right cheek open. He cried out, blood dripping into his eye, and from somewhere near his stomach reiatsu exploded in all directions. The windows surrounding him vaporized, fractured instantly into dust and left him clinging to the steel framework for dear life. Again he screamed, falling, unaware of anything beyond the pain and heat.

And then it stopped.

Severed like the plug had been pulled, everything stopped. The temperature was gone. The buildings. The wind. The pain. Everything. Just gone.

Ichigo drifted into that void of peace. His eyes closed and it was a bit like floating. He couldn’t exactly tell up from down, or back from front, but he didn’t really need to either. Nothing seemed to matter at the moment and he could feel his reiatsu growing, slowly refilling his immense reserves. Which somehow he knew instinctively had been drained completely by something. What that was he couldn’t put a finger on; it felt a bit like the kind of memory that one has of their birth. Logically he knew it had happened, but the details of it were obscured, out of focus no matter how hard he concentrated on it. All he could get was that it was there, and Old Man Zangetsu rumbled soft murmurs of reassurance.

The fact that his words weren't clear spoke to just _how badly_ the Thing had drained him. Reaching out for either soul spirit brought disturbingly quiet mumbles from the bow and the sensation of deep slumber from the mask.

If Ichigo had possessed even an ounce more energy at that moment, he might have actually been worried about the inner Hollow, but as it was the Thing had exhausted all three of them. So the hybrid drifted; half-awake and randomly poking his other selves for how well they were healing from the Thing.

For a time the feeling of sleep was all he got. He couldn’t tell if it was a long time, but he rather figured if he was poking too often, his horse would get irritated with him. The Hollow never did though. So Ichigo kept periodically pulsing his reiatsu at him in the hopes of a new response…

It took weeks until anything changed, and Kisuke kept watch, monitoring his reiatsu levels with the kind of scrutiny rarely given to actual people. Every couple of days Orihime came to use her fairies on the comatose Visored. It kept him from losing muscle mass or brain tissue, and prevented bed sores. The reishi-dense atmosphere of Unohana’s intensive care unit took care of the rest. Compared to Living World coma patients, Ichigo wouldn’t have to fight through any of the normal after-effects of having been asleep for so long. And in that regard he was incredibly lucky.

Now if only he would wake up…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Art](http://sta.sh/023aovqmoa79)


	3. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> x.x No chapter pic this time because I am WORN OUT by work plus One Piece Big Bang, which is what I had been working on this last month. Thanks SO MUCH, guys, for being patient with me and sticking it out until I had those finished. I'm hoping to get back into updating a little more regularly now that the big projects are out of the way, but we'll see. Work hasn't left me with much time to write lately.
> 
> ~~**Edit:** NOW WITH CHAPTER ART!!!! WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!~~ Nevermind...  >.>

A voice! Someone was... talking? That wasn't Zangetsu or... who was that?! And what were they...

"...only natural that it would take a while with a reiatsu depletion that low. Even after multiple infusions, his reserves were simply drained to the bone..."

Were they talking about him? How long had he been asleep? He let his thoughts drift over what the person had said about reiatsu depletion, and a niggling feeling sprung up from somewhere deep in his memory. There had been a Thing. He felt the space where it should have been, but the memories of exactly _what_ the Thing had been wouldn’t appear on the glass.

He felt empty. Drifting between buildings without really touching anything. He’d have thought his mindscape was drowned again, but for the lack of water. Glancing up, he didn’t think he’d ever seen the sky so blue and clear. That meant he was happy, didn’t it? Snippets of conversations with his sword spirit—well, with whom he’d _thought_ was his sword spirit—about the intricacies of how the weather within his mindscape was directly connected to his moods. If he had to label the emotion connected to the quiet city though… he supposed it would be called ‘peace’ or ‘contentment’ rather than ‘happy’. It didn’t feel full enough to be happy.

Where was Zangetsu anyway?

A rumble of sound near where he always found his childhood home reassured him that all was well. They were still asleep; needing quite a bit more reiatsu to build up before they could actually rouse themselves again.

The voice drew him away again, “…shouldn’t be long now. At most a couple of days. The level has been rising rapidly since I called you. I assumed you would want time to get here before he actually woke up.”

Woke up…

Woke…

“AH!” Ichigo gasped, chest heaving and blinking rapidly to bring the room around him into focus.

There was movement to his left, a breeze to his right, a beeping in the background, and the taste of reishi on his tongue. His eyes darted around, taking in the window, the supposedly calming paintings on the walls, the medical equipment, and the color scheme before he tried to turn his head. Someone’s hands took his shoulders as he pushed himself upright, feeling stiff and uncoordinated. The warmth against his body was welcome through the thin shitagi—patient white, he noticed looking down—and unconsciously he leaned into the touch. Then sound began to filter into his awareness better, the mishmash of voices around his bed clarifying a little.

“ICHIGO!” Rukia looked like she’d been crying, clinging to Orihime, who actually _was_ crying.

The hands belonged to his father. Isshin laughed at his expression, “What? Did you think you’d get to die and be rid of me!? Daddy hasn’t finished teaching you his Love Style yet!”

The former captain let go to pose, and was immediately assaulted by a screaming Karin as new hands grabbed Ichigo to keep him from falling over. Those belonged to Chad and Uryuu, one on each arm. The Mexican Fullbringer smiled as warm as his grip, but the Quincy sniffed and pushed up his glasses with his his free hand.

“You know, Kurosaki, this means we’re enemies again.”

“Did we ever stop?” The redhead’s voice cracked with disuse, but he smirked at his long-time rival nonetheless.

“It’s good to see you awake.” Ishida dropped the pretense enough to squeeze Ichigo’s hand.

Yuzu jumped into his lap then, wrapping her arms about his waist and burying her face in his chest, wailing incomprehensibly.

“Yu! Yuzu!” Ichigo shifted, surprisingly feeling better already, so he could tilt her chin up to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“YOU DIED!!!” She cried, tears pouring down her cheeks.

Her whole forehead and nose were puffy and red, salt crusted in her eyelashes, and chapping about her nostrils and lips. Ignoring the way some nameless Shinigami with blue hair fussed about people making him upset, Ichigo pulled her in tighter, one arm around her back, the other with his fingers buried in her hair, holding her in arms that somehow had lost no definition or strength for the length of his coma. She sobbed into his embrace, shoulders heaving and a great flood of tears soaked his front, but after a time, where everyone around them tried not to watch her too closely, the grief eased. Her crying drained to whimpers, and she tucked herself into his chest like she always had as a child.

He rubbed his cheek in her hair and made an unconscious shushing sound, just loud enough that the ones closest to him could hear it. Then he tilted her chin up again and smiled, “Yeah. I died, but! You can see me. You’re here, in Soul Society, with Goat Face and Karin. So it’s not like I’m really dead, you know.”

“But you are! Your body’s gone! Urahara-san said it was burned up in the… what’d he called, Otousan?” She blinked at their father.

The older Shinigami cleared his throat, holding his other daughter to his side even if she wasn’t as outwardly distressed as her twin, “Burnout, honey.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Burnout?” Ichigo blinked at him. “What’s Burnout?”

“I believe I can be of some assistance there, Kurosaki-san.” Unohana smiled, only slightly less terrifying than usual, and crossed to his bedside.

She shooed Chad and Uryuu away by pressing a button on the bed that raised it somewhat, and patted Yuzu’s head before running a hand over Ichigo’s forehead. Watching the monitor off to the side, she gave a nod. Then she turned it off and began unplugging the cords. She took her sweet time disconnecting him from the equipment, fully aware that the entire room was watching her, and didn’t for even one heartbeat look at any of them. It didn’t stop Ichigo’s eyebrow from beginning to twitch before she was finished though.

Then she stood and smiled again, folding her hands in her sleeves. “Burnout, or Reiatsu Burnout, is the condition in which a Shinigami uses their reiatsu to its absolute limit. Down beyond even farther than you have ever drained yourself before. Paralysis and unconsciousness are the warning signs, which you should well know given your proclivity for overuse, and should be treated with the severity they deserve. Pushing beyond such limits, for instance,” her eyes slid over to Isshin with a quirk of her lips, “holding the Dangai immobile for a significant length of time, triggers seizures and organ shut-down. At that point a Shinigami’s reiatsu has been exhausted to the point that they are quite literally using their own life force to power the spell or attack they’re using. If they cannot be separated from the source of the drain at that point, death is an almost certainty.”

A small gasp echoed around the room. The only one not surprised by the information was Isshin, but he did hold Karin tighter, taking advantage of her shock to abate his own worries.

“So… if I Burned Out like that…?” Ichigo frowned.

“Why are you still alive?” Unohana supplied with yet another smile, “You have your human mother to thank for that. You did, in fact, die, Kurosaki-san, but only Urahara-san’s quick thinking saved your soul form. Whatever drain you had on your reiatsu was immediately forced to drain your body’s life, not yours.”

“Well…” He looked around the room and gave a rueful smile, “we always knew I’d be here eventually, right? And probably by doing something stupid.”

Rukia punched him, “IDIOT! What were you even thinking?!”

“AH!! I WASN’T, MIDGET!!! I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!”

“Rukia-nee-san, please don’t hurt him!” Yuzu pleaded.

“Midget can’t hurt me, Zuzu. I’m indestructible.” He grinned at his sister.

Above him, Chad rumbled, “Except for the thing that drained you.”

“Do you have any memory of what that could have been? Unohana-san sounded as though this whatever-it-was had to be your conscious choice to fuel.”

“Not precisely, Ishida-san,” The captain of the Fourth commented. “Casting the initial kido, or beginning the initial attack would have been a conscious decision, but often Shinigami who experience true Burnout as Kurosaki-san has end up in a parasitical relationship with the cause. It has developed enough reiatsu to feed on its own. A sort of stable entity outside of the Shinigami’s control.”

Orihime gasped, her eyes lighting up, “Oh! Like a pp-chain reaction with reiatsu as a catalyst instead of some chemical isotope like Hydrogen.”

Even Unohana blinked at the ginger-haired Fullbringer.

She blushed a little and took a breath, “Like the sun in the Living World. For stars of that size and smaller, the Hydrogen nuclei fuse to become a deuterium releasing a positron and neutrino, but that only happens if the beta-plus decay actually changes the diproton into a deuterium in first place. If that doesn’t happen then the whole chain breaks down, wasting the Hydrogen, and it takes _so long_ for new Hydrogen to fuse that if it wasn’t for how fast the rest of the reaction was, the Sun would never give off any light or heat or anything. It might even dissolve completely and _then_ where would we be!? How can a solar system be if there’s no solar to system!! Rukia!! THIS IS SERIOUS!”

“Uhh… but it does?” The violet-eyed Shinigami glanced at the others for support, only to find them just as lost as she was.

“And thank the Soul King for that! I’m telling you, if we didn’t get light isotopes and gamma rays from the sun we’d all be in a lot of trouble! Why it’d only be a few hours before all of the heat on Earth would just evaporate away. Except that it doesn’t actually evaporate because it’s not a liquid, it’s actually it’s own separate kind of energy that—“

“Yes, thank you, Inoue-san.” Unohana interrupted causing everyone else in the room to sigh a little.

Orihime blushed and glanced around, “What I only meant was that like the Hydrogen once the reaction gets started it’s just gonna continue until all of the Hydrogen is burned up. Or, in this case, the reiatsu.”

Rukia hugged her close with a supportive smile, and Unohana nodded, “Yes. I believe that is an excellent analogy, Inoue-san. Thank you.”

At that moment the door to the room burst open and a collection of Renji, Rangiku, and Ikkaku fell through it before anyone could actually break out of their stunned silence. The noise was loud enough to chase away their confusion, especially as both Karin and Rukia rounded on them in the same tone of voice.

“JUST WHAT DO YOU OAFS THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOU’RE GOING TO UPSET ICHI—!” The end of his name was garbled by the two voices on top of each other.

“Watch it, brat!” Ikkaku was the first to his feet, and the last four years had brought both Kurosaki twins up to eye-level with the bald Shinigami.

As such, they met forehead to forehead when Karin leaned in to threaten, “Why I oughta…”

In the corner closest to the door Rukia was dressing down Renji and Rangiku was pouting at Isshin, who looked helpless to defend them as he’d been given the same sort of dressing down when he arrived, Ichigo was sure. Ishida chimed in with his egotistical tones, and that prompted a response from Yumichika, not far behind his partner as always. Kenpachi’s reiatsu made itself known then, and from the noise level Ichigo could tell at least Shinji—possibly Shinji and Hiyori—were standing guard between him and the captain of the Eleventh. Kisuke was sure to be around somewhere as well; it wasn’t like him to just disappear when something as serious as this affected his student. Ichigo was willing to bet he was out with Shinji and Kenpachi, and that meant it was likely that they were going to be joining the mob in his room at any time now.

The din grew louder and louder, pressing in on his ears with a physical force that rocked the buildings of his inner world. He wasn’t conscious of the movements, but he shifted closer to Chad, glaring out at the rest of them, a crawling feeling of being trapped growing on his skin like grains of sand under the edges of scales. His upper lip lifted, curling away from his teeth, and a low hiss rumbled up his throat…

— _ENOUGH!_ —

Reiatsu pulsed through the building, heavy and black.

All eyes turned toward the man on the bed, and his signature glare told them all they needed to know. Renji and the Usual Crowd made their apologies, leaving as quickly as they came. Kenpachi and the Visoreds—all of them, it seemed—stuck their heads in to encourage him to get better in their own special, violent, way. Orihime dared a quick hug, then scurried off with Uryuu and Rukia in tow. Unohana gave him a bow and a reminder to call if he needed anything. And his father pulled both girls to him, pretending not to wail so that Yuzu wouldn’t be set off again and Karin would have something to focus on instead of saying goodbye to her brother.

Then he was alone with just Chad.

The Fullbringer gently took a seat in Unohana’s chair, between Ichigo and the door. The redhead relaxed, a small smile on one corner of his mouth. They sat like that a while, enjoying the silence between them; the crackle of Ichigo’s reiatsu like the glow of a campfire, licking at the edges of Chad’s senses, just like it always had. It was different now though. The blaze was warm and bright, but controlled, tempered in a way it hadn’t been, even just before he’d died.

“How was Mexico?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“You have a marking on your face now.”

Ichigo nodded. “Yeah. I saw it before I woke up. Somehow I knew it would happen? I dunno. I’ve got a blank spot in my memory, but I know the mark is tied to it.”

“And?”

“And Shiro.”

Chad raised an eyebrow, barely visible under his bangs.

“Yeah, figured he deserved a name since he got me through everything.” The redhead leaned back into his pillows, resting his hands on his stomach. “It came to me, almost like Zangetsu did when I was training. His name’s Shirosaki. I know, I know, I told him it was kinda dumb too, but eh, I can shorten it and he doesn’t care.”

“So…”

“No. And I’m not going to tell them either. It feels all kinds of bad.”

“Alright.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence until the big Fullbringer had to leave. They shook hands, gave each other a nod, and that was that. Ichigo Kurosaki was dead, and officially passed over into Soul Society like every other Plus soul in the Living World eventually did.

Over the coming months, he was discharged from the Fourth, given a bungalow apartment suitable to his status as Hero of the Winter War, and enrolled in the Shino Academy to re-awaken Zangetsu. No one was surprised when he powered through the program in a fraction of the time. He refused to let them count his success as record-breaking though; he respected Toshiro too much to take that honor away from him, and truthfully, he wasn’t really starting from the same place anyway. So, any record he made wasn’t fair when held up against someone who had never known their Zanpakuto before entering the academy.

Graduation earned him an assignment, mostly menial jobs to help keep the balance among the Four Worlds, and patrols through Karakura that let him visit with his friends and family one week a month. During that time he caught up on news from the Visoreds as well. Things Shinji and the others couldn’t talk about where those who didn’t understand could hear. Of Kon, however, there was no word. Due to his status as an illegal Mod Soul there would never be a formal investigation into his disappearance, but even among the Fullbringers and the folk at the Shoten, they heard nothing. Kisuke only ever shook his head. The plushie had burned up in the singularity, he claimed, so any chance the Mod Soul’s pill survived was slim to none. Ichigo mourned him, of course, but the transition from substitute Shinigami to _actual_ Shinigami took more of his attention than he liked to admit, for all that it was surprisingly more painless and faster than he’d anticipated.

And not once did anyone else comment on how death had changed him.

Oh, he noticed some things. The marking around his left eye was impossible to miss, even for him, in its bright, fresh blood, red stripes—two following the curve of his nose and cheek, and three over his brow that disappeared into his hairline from forehead to temple. If he was honest, it reminded him of his first Visored mask. The one he’d had up until their evolution during the Winter War.

During that first year, Ichigo learned that it actually wasn’t all that uncommon for Zanpakuto to paint a symbol on their Shinigami. In fact, that was how the Thirteen Court Guard Squads had first earned their flower silhouettes. Each had been copied from the founding captain’s sword marks. Theirs just tended not to be so blatant, as Unohana was happy to demonstrate—hers covered the diamond of skin just over her breast bone.

Coincidentally, that was also how Ichigo discovered that the supposedly gentle captain of the Fourth was in actuality the First Kenpachi. He paid her a great deal more respect after that.

So generally Ichigo’s stripes were treated the same as Renji’s, and the Usual Crowd joked around that it was Zangetsu getting back at Ichigo for the slights against him, including the mysterious white tanto knife that had shown up on his hip the first time he'd called the sword into existence after waking.

As far as the others knew it had never spoken to him. There were no new spirits in his mindscape. And there was no doubt that it belonged to him. Several attempts at removing it had irritated Kurotsuchi to the point that Ichigo and his ‘damned infernal trick blade’ were banned from ever asking the Science Division for help. EVER!! With audible exclamation points that Hisagi and Rangiku continued to try and duplicate anytime the subject was brought up again.

Not everyone was jovial about it though. Momo eyed it every time she saw him, some shadow of her past that whispered unfounded worry into her mind, and her captain, Shinji, was often caught staring at it like he was trying to make it disappear with only his mind. But of the wary, the loudest was Rukia.

She caught him outside their favorite bar the night before what would have been his twenty-second birthday. One hand spun him so that his back was against the wall, and the other jabbed at his hip, where the tanto was safely tucked into its matching sheath.

His own hand flew to it unconsciously, as though it would fly away from him if he didn’t.

“See! That’s exactly what I meant!” She scowled. “It’s been a year since you died.”

“And he hasn’t shown up in all that time. Midget, you worry too much. He died with Kon and my body.” The argument was both tired and old.

“Then where did it come from? How come it doesn’t have a name?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, “I don’t know and neither does anybody else. If there was something wrong with it, I’m sure my captain would have said something.”

“And that’s another thing! Twelve months you’ve been here and not a damn one of us knows what squad you ARE in, only that you HAVE to be in either the Second, the Fourth, or the Eleventh!” Rukia put her hands on her hips. “Who is your captain!?”

“Technically it could be the First too.”

“You really think I’m that stupid!?”

“Only when you act like it!”

They were growling in each other’s faces at that point and so completely missed Renji and the others come up to them until Renji had a hand on each of their heads and was pushing them apart.

“C’mon, Ru, you know he ain’t allowed to talk about it.”

“Neither are we, but we all still know anyway! What’s so special about it that it’s all hush-hush!”

Rangiku leaned on Hisagi and pouted, “Yeah! We got it when you were still on probation, Ichi, but that was like four months ago or something. What gives?”

“I—“

Renji cut him off, “Tonight it’s cuz it’s his damn birthday and we been waitin’ a week and a half fer it.”

The subject was mostly dropped as the crew filed into the bar, but for Yumichika, who hung back to prod the younger redhead one last time. “Abarai seems quick to your defense, Berry-kun. Something we don’t know about inter-division relations there?”

Ichigo looked at him liked he’d grown a second head, “Yeah, right.”

“Quick to sarcasm. What’s that quote you said again? From that playwright you like?”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks. And I am not. Renji’s great, but he’s got his eye on somebody else. Trust me.” Ichigo shook his head, “Besides, that’s not what it means anyway. Originally the word meant promises and in the play, they’re talking about making more than she can keep.”

Yumichika looked skeptical and flipped his hair in defense, “Whatever. My point still stands. He jumps to your defense and you to his awfully quickly for ‘just friends’.”

“I defend all of you guys the same. Renji just seems to get it more because he’s always in trouble.” The redhead laughed, “Now come one or they’ll get started without us, my birthday or not.”

He held the curtain aside for the slender brunet to go first for two reasons. One, he admitted in the privacy of his all-too-hot mindscape, was the pinch of cramping from his core. It wasn’t as bad as it had been last year… yet, at least… but he recognized it. And the other reason he didn’t even notice because it was instinct. Some drive to ensure all of his Nakama was inside the bar before he entered combined with a need to be closest to the door once he was inside, and the only way to ensure both was for him to enter the establishment last.

Turning to glance up at the sky, something drew him to scan the shadows of the roofs and trees nearby. Eyes. He was looking for eyes; it dawned on him after a second sweep. But even though he knew it, he still couldn’t make himself stop. Not before he’d searched the whole area and was sure the person he was looking for wasn’t there.

He gave himself a shake, trying to dislodge the sensation of expected disappointment. He’d done it last year at this stage in the game with the same results. The person was never there. Why he expected that to change just because he was in Soul Society didn’t make much sense. So he forced himself to enter the bar for his party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Art](http://sta.sh/0b8hmwehlcr)


	4. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OTL I can't believe I missed updating this for GrimmIchi Day. I had it all planned out too. Double update, this chapter on the 14th, and the next on the 15th as a treat. And then work got in the way. UGH! Anyway, there will be chapter art as soon as I have the spare time to finish it, probably tonight after work depending on how busy we are. Enjoy~!

Ichigo proceeded to work through the rest of the month with very little memory of what happened that night. Every day he grew hotter, more distracted, and by the end of July, he was using any excuse he could think of to hole up in his apartment at night, when the fever was worse. Avoiding both friends and family, just as he had last year before he died.

This year though, he was aware of the searching. No one he talked to fit the bill. And he was conscious of the waiting. Instead of dreaming, he sought his sword's wisdom, disappearing for hours on end sometimes, regardless of whatever else was going on around him. Anything to waste the time when he couldn't concentrate on anything except the feeling of something—no  _someone_ —missing.

It was during one of these that Shinji finally confronted him. "Oi!"

The redhead glared. Not that it deterred the Visored captain.

Plopping himself down next to the other, the blond grinned, "So, ya know yet, or are ya gonna keep pretending ya ain't one of us?"

"Thought we covered this years ago, Shin, I'm not joining your pack."

"Yet, ya still show up here whenever yer feelin' it." Shinji teased with a waggle of his eyebrows over eyes that were slightly too serious. "Besides, that ain't what I mean." He spread out over the deck so that his head hung off the edge, "Kensei's nice, and Mashiro shares better than Love and Lisa."

"I'm not fucking Kensei."

"You'll feel better." The blond pressed.

Ichigo scowled, finally opening his eyes to glare in earnest at the older Visored, "I'm not somebody's bitch, no matter what biology says."

"Ya've got it all wrong, Ichi!" The honest concern almost had him giving in. "Unless ya've already got yer eyes on someone." Shinji looked deeper at him and there went the feeling of solidarity with the blond's exasperated huff. "Really?! After all this time?! Ya know it'd never be allowed, even if he was still alive. He's a—"

"A what?!" Ichigo growled; his voice duplicated faintly, "Just like us and you know it, Shin!"

The other growled back, "They are not! We're nothing like them!"

Their reiatsu rose as both moved to face each other, teeth bare and growling louder. Unknown to them both, a trickle of black bled into their eyes, and the oppressive aura filling the courtyard of the Fifth took on a distinct flavor, like sand on a hot wind.

Unseated Shinigami fled the division in a hurry, none of them willing to come between the two powerhouses in case the glaring match came to blows.

"Back down, Shin. You know I've got the advantage." Ichigo stood, flash-stepping away from the building.

The other followed him, "I am Pack Leader, Ichi. Strength is only part of it."

"I'm not part of your pack."

"If you were you'd know this shit!"

"Not gonna happen!"

"Like Hell!"

They were barely a breath apart, hands on their swords and pouring enough reiatsu into the air that across the Seireitei three heads snapped up. At exactly the same moment, Kensei, Rose, and Renji appeared on opposite sides of the Fifth.

"Oh Hell." The captain of the Ninth groaned. "Rose."

"On it."

The taller blond darted around the courtyard rescuing Shinigami that had been trapped by the immense weight of the power pouring out of the two in the center.

Renji gave Kensei a lost look, and the Visored shouted over the wind, "Separate them! Take the Berry back to his den! He needs safety right now!"

"What? You mean you know what's goin' on with him?"

"Look, pup, we don't have time for the whole thing. We gotta get 'em apart before—"

A roar, watery and savage, cut him off.

"—that happens."

Between them, Shinji and Ichigo grappled, both biting and clawing at each other. Completely foregoing their swords, Ichigo had his jaws locked onto Shinji's neck where it met his shoulder, the vicious teeth of his mask rending the flesh through kosode, shitagi, and haori. On the other hand, Shinji tore at both of Ichigo's arms, fingers like claws. Blood splattered them both and the hard edges of their masks caught as both were trying to break the other's while protecting their own.

Kensei jumped on Shinji at the same moment Renji did the same with Ichigo. The second the scent of their blood hit the silver-haired Visored's nose though, fragments of white began to collect at his cheek. He spun the infuriated blond away, putting his body between the two of them with his back to Renji.

Daring to risk his grip, he jabbed his finger at the division entrance, "Get him out of here, Abarai!"

That time Renji didn't need to be told twice. He wrapped himself bodily around the struggling Ichigo and made for the gap in the wall. Just before they reached freedom, Shinji's voice, distorted by his mask, demanded with authority.

"FIND AN ALPHA, BERRY BOY! BEFORE YOU KILL SOMEONE ELSE!"

Ichigo stilled less than a block away from the Fifth, and he allowed himself to hang limply over Renji's shoulder all the way to the outskirts of the Kuchiki estate.

Technically the lands were originally Shiba property, but the Elders of the other three Houses were in conference regarding Ichigo's claim to the clan and whether his war hero status outweighed his father's desertion. So, for the time being the redhead's apartment and the wilderness beyond it were under Byakuya's care.

Between the two Shinigami though, whose name was on the deed didn't matter. The whole wedge of Seireitei was Ichigo's territory.

The often too-serious captain of the Sixth respected that in a way that made most of the others raise an eyebrow at him, but all he would say on the matter was that 'others' should consider themselves lucky Ichigo was so patient.

Which usually incited further laughter.

At the moment though, Renji could feel how serious that claim really was in how the younger redhead acted upon crossing into that wedge.

"Put me down, Renji." His voice was tired, but clear.

The older leveled him with a scowl, as soon as he was on his feet, "Yer not gonna go dashin' off ta kill Hirako-taicho if I let go, are ya?"

Ichigo gave a snort, raising an eyebrow at Renji's hands still on his hips. "If I wanted to kill Shinji, Ren, he'd be dead and you know it."

"Then what in the Four Worlds was that?!" But he did let go to walk beside him up the path to the semi-secluded bungalow apartment.

A blush stained the Visored's cheeks, and he mumbled under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. It's just… nothing." He hauled his front door open like it had personally offended him, but if he'd hoped the rebound would deter his friend, he was sorely disappointed as Renji caught it and let himself inside.

"That weren't nothin'. All that talk of Alphas and packs and the fight?! Ya looked fit ta tear his throat out. Ya damn near did before Muguruma-taicho stepped in!" Renji let the door slam and waggled a finger at him. "Ya got some explainin' ta do!"

Ichigo snickered, "Lay off the old sitcoms next time you're staying at Kisuke's."

"It's a good sayin'." The older huffed. "Now explain!"

The door banging open stopped him before the words even formed on his tongue.

"Ichigo!" Rukia's slight frame seemed to fill the entry-way. "What the hell!?"

The orange-haired man drew his hand down his face in exasperation. Renji opened his mouth to speak, also frustrated because he'd been just about to learn the answer to that very question, but the Visored cut him off, a sarcastic tone to his voice.

"Why, yes, Rukia, come right in, make yourself at home. I'll make tea and we'll all have a nice chat, shall we?"

The Midget huffed, her pretty mouth scrunching up to her nose with a, no doubt indignant, reply on her tongue, but Ichigo gave her no chance.

"There's nothing to worry about. I have it under control."

Renji snorted. "Yeah, right."

Ichigo scowled at him.

"Yeah, totally under control. You nearly tore Hirako-taicho's head off!" Rukia exclaimed, slamming the door behind her just like Renji had. "Do you not want to have your family cleared!? No appreciation for the lengths Nii-sama have gone to get you this chance?!"

"THAT'S what you care about!?" Renji rounded on her incredulous.

"You should too! If war hero status gets equated to nobility, you can date Nii-sama openly!" The tiny Shinigami couldn't believe either lunkhead had any brains between them. "Nobility doesn't get into violent brawls and hauled halfway across Seireitei like a sack of potatoes!"

"Hirako-taicho nearly dies and you care about how we looked?!" Renji scoffed again.

"He wouldn't have died." Ichigo and Rukia chorused, though one was considerably more squirmy than the other, causing the focus of the conversation to shift back to the youngest.

Renji narrowed his eyes at him, "That's the second time ya've lit up like one of those fire truck things. Now, c'mon, out wit' it. S'not nothin'. Ya've been weird since yer birthday."

Rukia nodded quickly, "You've been secretive, moody, and you barely spent any time with your dad when he came to visit last week." Ichigo gave her a look. "Okay, true. Very few people can be around your dad long, but you skipped out in the middle of theatre night. And I know it didn't have anything to do with the play! Will was right next to you!"

"Ru's right." Renji chimed in, "Every other time it's like trying to tell Kenpachi 'no' to get you and Will apart after theatre night."

"You haven't been sparring with him either!" Rukia came back. "I know because he's been going after Nii-sama for it instead."

"He never said anythin' ta me." The older redhead sounded hurt.

The brunette turned to him, shaking her head, "I'm sure he didn't mean to, it probably slipped his mind. It's not like it's a big deal. It's just Kenpachi…"

Ichigo took advantage of their distraction to slink off, flash stepping through the house and out the back door faster than even the Goddess of Flash herself.

Once he as miles into the woods beyond his garden, the redhead relaxed further. His reiatsu flickered and spread out over the trees like a blanket. He sank into seiza position before bending to touch his forehead to ground, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

He breathed through his teeth, eyes scrunched closed, and a wild keen escaped his throat to echo against the forest in the setting sun. Familiar hands pulled on his waist. On the outskirts of his senses he felt the world melt away. Sinking into his mindscape, those hands soothed the empty place in his soul that cramped and drove him mad with fever.

"Shh, Aibou. I gotcha." The watery voice was strained, tired.

Their eyes met. The accordance between them echoed hollowly. Ichigo had not revealed the presence of the White to Soul Society and yet he had been unable to forestall the symptoms.

"We had a deal, Shii." The King hissed.

"Ah. We did."

Gold flashed between them, lighting up the glass at their feet in time with the redhead's eyes. He stood, slowly, from his crouch, his brows drawn into a furious scowl, and he stepped towards the Hollow.

"We had a deal, Shii!" He hissed again, like a rattlesnake.

The pseudo-albino stepped back, also slowly, his hands up. He knew who his King was, who had saved them all from being dissolved out of the cycle of rebirth. His might have been the power they'd used to heal, but the King had protected their soul name, wrapped his very self around the core and bore the scars of their death across his back. No, Shirosaki was done challenging his King. He was a good horse. He never bucked or kicked anymore. And he'd done his best. He really had. But…

"Ya can't stop biology, Aibou." He took another step back, chancing a glance at the edge of the building. A fall couldn't kill him but it'd hurt a lot. His King would make sure of it.

"We had a—"

"Ichigo." The third spirit rumbled darkly.

The redhead's glare snapped to the other half of his sword. The Old Man wore only his dark robe, his hair frizzy from the heat, and darker than normal sunglasses to protect his eyes.

"You know what you have to do." He intoned, and the King snarled at him to no effect. "Further ignoring the problem will only lead us down the same path as before. You must take us forward if we are to overcome the fever. Walking in our own footsteps is as good as going backwards. And there is no Soul Society beyond this one. Would you send us to Rebirth so soon?"

For a long moment there was only tense silence where Ichigo appeared as though he was going to go after Shiro anyway. Then he huffed like an iguana and flopped onto his rear with his knees drawn up, glaring at the storm clouds rumbling across the sky to his left. Heat lightning flickered inside them and made the silence that much bigger.

Cautiously Shiro sat beside him, as always in mimicry and duplicate all the way down to the bruises under their eyes. Though the Hollow's were grey against his ashen skin where his King's were purple.

"So," Ichigo began conversationally, "biology, huh?"

"Huh?"

"You said you can't stop biology."

Shiro looked to Zangetsu before answering, "Yeah, it's a—"

"It means it's a part of me whether I like it or not, like my hair." Ichigo cut him off.

He huffed in return, "What's wrong wit' yer hair?!"

A smirk accompanied one of those powerful amber eyes in looking at the Hollow. "Nothing, I'm glad to know you care so much."

"Oi! O'course I care! It's my hair too! Don't go gettin' some crazy idea ta dye it er sommat! I'll force it outta ya like a poison, ya know I will!"

"Easy, Shii." The King laughed, a beam of sunshine illuminating the copper spikes like a halo, "I just meant it's something we can't change."

"We?" The Hollow perked up a bit.

"Yeah. We"

Ichigo leaned over, strangely comforted by his horse just being there. The feeling was only enhanced when the Hollow responded. Off in the distance, the clouds got a little less threatening, and the lightning faded into pale pulses buried deep inside them, only flickering when that empty place contracted.

As the sun died over Seireitei, it was just beginning to rise in Karakura Town. The sky was clear, a few left over puffy clouds slept in late above the slowly wakening city. It had rained the day before. The streets still carried the scent of it over the stench of car exhaust and human. And of the Living World's most egotistical species, none even glanced up when a great black mouth ripped the gorgeous dawn in half.

Three figures dressed in white emerged, various levels of contempt written on their faces. Of the men, the taller shoved his hands into the pockets of his hakama and the shorter glanced at him with disdain in the slant of his brows and mouth. The third was both female, and furious, squirming in her bonds like a cat about to get a bath.

"Let Nel go! Nel's brudders'll beat chu up!" She kicked her feet, dangling from the shorter man's grasp by the scruff of her neck.

He scowled at her, "Quiet, cub."

"Nel's not a cub! Don't treat Nel like dis! Let Nel go!"

"Oi! Shaddup!" The taller growled, earning a wince and a squeak from the child-sized girl.

He barely glanced at her, his attention off to the side. His companions could almost see the tick of interested tail tip in the way his eyes scanned the city below. A hand on his shoulder made him jump and hiss, glaring at the source.

"Go find him, Grimmjow. You will be useless to us until you do." His stoic companion almost smiled, a fond tolerance in his reiatsu in spite of his deadpan tone of voice.

His whole frame tense, and his attention jumped to Nel. "But…"

"Go." The other ordered again.

Grimmjow gave a growl and darted off.

Then Nel, who'd been pouting, scowled up at the remaining Arrancar. "You know where you goin'? Or ish Nel gonna hafta find the glowy-lady by hershelf like she was gonna."

"I know where I am going, cub. I have been here many times."

"Shince da war?"

Ulquiorra hissed involuntarily, then cleared his throat, and started off towards their destination. "Yes."

The higher the sun climbed in the sky, the brighter it shone on the city, and the more irritated Grimmjow became. Being from a world of eternal night, the watery air and infernal daylight were conspiring to give him a migraine. And worse… his prey's scent was everywhere!

It covered the town. Every nook and cranny was saturated with it, like the berry boy had deliberately gone about the place staking out bright red flags for all the worlds to see. Granted it was his territory, but still! He didn't have to go that overboard with it; just a few rubs here and there with a scent gland and it did the trick. Anything that could smell it would keep away and anything that couldn't was meat to be wasted as far as the feline Arrancar thought. He did have to concede that it fit the berry's style though. Big, loud, large, and everywhere at once.

Which made the absence of his reiatsu all the more telling. And infuriating.

It wasn't uncommon for Betas in heat to go into hiding at this time of the year, and if this had been the desert, Grimm might have given up for this season. He had last year when the berry's scent had abruptly disappeared mid-fall. But between that missed opportunity, and the fact that berry boy had always been horrible at hiding his power, the absence was motivating rather than discouraging.

Maybe he just hadn't been in town in a while. Humans did that, didn't they? Just take off for someone else for a while without notifying anyone? Maybe he'd packed up his trash family and headed out of town.

Except that should have let the scent fade some, and the very air of the city was saturated with it.

Sweet, almost cloying the way it dawdled in his nose, and fuck the Seven Hells did that drive him wild! It always had. That damned scent called him out. Through the haze of the usurper's sword powers, it had called to him, ignited his instincts. And that had only gotten worse now that he knew his prey had come of age!

Though where he was now…

"Oi! What do you want prowling around my house?"

A quick glance identified a human woman, approximately eighteen years old, decently high spiritual potential—for a human anyway—grey-eyed, short black hair, and a familiar scowl on her face. She was dressed intelligently; tee-shirt and shorts. Strange armor on her lower legs though. It was made of plastic and covered nothing vital… Unless human anatomy had changed drastically since the Winter War. But Grimmjow didn't think it had so he summarily dismissed the grumpy tomboy in favor of returning to his search.

At least he tried.

The ball didn't exactly come out of nowhere, he'd seen it tucked under her arm, but the force behind it got his full attention as he caught it. He squeezed his hand, puncturing it in five places, eyes narrow and a growl in his throat.

"What."

"I said, what are you doing prowling around my house?" She put her hands on her hips and tossed her head to unsuccessfully get her bangs out of her face.

Grimmjow gave a snort and fired the deflated ball back at her with all of his strength. "Not that it's any of yer business, but I'm lookin' fer someone."

To his surprise, not only did she catch it, when it bounced off of her chest there was a flash of green reiatsu that repaired it entirely—air and all.

Her scowl took on a darker tone, "Ichi-nii's not here."

"Yer one of his brat sisters, ain't ya?" He connected the dots mentally, with a quick assessment of the area. "Which one?"

Before she could answer the front door popped open, and a blonde copy of the woman flashed them a bright smile. "Karin-chan! Dinner's ready, and Otousan says that your boyfriend can join us if he wants to!"

"WHAT?!" Karin stomped into the house past her twin, wearing and berating their father just loud enough to be heard outside.

Grimmjow almost laughed until he noticed the other Kurosaki daughter was still genuinely smiling at him. He scowled, barely resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest. She didn't actually expect him to join them, did she? He was Arrancar, they were Shinigami, that was just asking for someone to die!

"Uh…"

Yuzu giggled, "Nii-san doesn't live here anymore."

"Huh?" Was the girl confused?

"Well it started a couple years ago. After he lost his powers. He couldn't stand Otousan anymore he said. So he moved in with Xcution."

What the Hell was she going on about? He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head a little bit away from her defensively.

"They helped him for a while, but when he got his powers back I guess he couldn't stand them anymore either. So he moved out on his own."

"Look, kid—"

"Of course, nowhere he lived he stayed for long. He just couldn't get settled. Never stayed anywhere for more than a couple months."

That brought his protests to a halt and his wandering attention snapped to her entirely. It certainly explained the way his prey's scent covered the  _entire_  town. "So where is he now?"

She seemed to completely ignore his demand. "That's when Urahara-san started training him harder. He went there every day. Like Urahara-san was trying to push him to master something."

"So he's at the Shinigami's place. Great."

"Well, Urahara-san can't teach him anything anymore."

Grimmjow growled at the innocent smile on her face. "Then he's with the Visored bastards?!"

She shook her head with a little laugh. If she'd been anyone else he'd have thought she was being deliberately evasive and manipulative. But he didn't think Shinigami and humans had Betas. Even still, she was getting on his last nerve.

"Then where the fuck is he! I can smell him all over the goddamned town!" His hands clenched into fists as he realized he'd just confirmed her suspicions about who he was looking for.

"That's because he was just here last week. But we don't expect him back for another month." Her voice took on a melancholy tone, and she sighed wistfully. "Truthfully though, it'll be much longer than that, and things will be much worse by the time he does come back."

Not liking the way those words ran down his spine, Grimmjow snarled, "So you don't know where he is, which means he's not in the city, which means he's out of his territory. Why!"

"It's simple, Arrancar-san." Yuzu smiled sadly up at him. "Nii-san is dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Art](http://sta.sh/01v6satv26pq)


	5. Mating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! The long-awaited chapter! Don't try to fool me, y'all know this was the one y'all were waiting for. Heh heh heh. 83 And hey! I have the chapter art done at the same time for once! lol ((Don't feel bad if the sex is a little confusing, Szayel will explain what happened later, don't worry.))

“You cannot storm Soul Society, Grimmjow.”

“I know that!”

Back under the cold eternal moon of their home, the panther paced. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword and he glared at the floor like it had personally offended him.

Off to the side a number of others lounged on piles of cushions wedged between broken chunks of what had originally been the usurper’s meeting table. The chairs were equally in pieces, but most of them were melted together in the corner. A collection of spindly Adjuchas were crawling on it, playing king of the mountain, and scattered about the survivors of the Winter War busied themselves with personal projects, attempting to appear unconcerned for the Sexta’s discomfort.

“You can’t storm Soul Society.” Ulquiorra repeated, looking up from his book.

Grimmjow whipped around, firing a cero at the wall above the Cuarta. “I KNOW!!”

Behind him, Starrk opened one eye and nudged Szayel, “Pay up.”

“Hmph. I was sure it’d be sooner.” The Octava affected a pout, digging a chip out of his pocket. He adjusted his mask with a sniff at the Primera’s confusion. “Dehydrated. Get it wet and it becomes one fresh fraccion free for eating.”

Grimmjow was back to pacing. “How is it my fuckin’ fault the damn shit smells so strong!? I don’t see how you two can’t smell it! We’re two worlds away an’ I can feel it. It’s like it’s crawlin’ into my head an’ stained my mind with its--”

One of the girls looked up at him, “Maybe you marked him before?”

“WHAT?! He’s a fuckin’ Shinigami!” He raged at her.

Halibel cut him off, “Sun-sun has a point. When you fought him in the war,” they all paused for a moment to growl at the door that led to the throne room. Then she continued, “I witnessed your fight. He’s not a Shinigami.”

“So what?! Yer sayin’ I can smell it cuz he’s mine?” Grimm scowled at her.

Nnoitra threw a stone at him, “Ain’t that what ya al’ays say? ‘E’s mah prey, e’rybody back th’ feck off!’ Innit?!”

The manid cackled at the look on the feline’s face and he nudged his fraccion with the butt of his scythe.

“Ain’t that what ‘e says, Tes? Ain’t it?”

Tesla snickered, looking from Quinta to Sexta, “Hai.”

“I do NOT sound like that, ya bug bastard!”

“Actually you kinda do, Grimmy.” Now restored to her adult size, Nelliel was draped across Halibel’s lap weaving ribbons into Mila Rose’s mane.

The center of their attention jabbed his finger at the former Tercera, “Don’t think just cuz yer my blood I don’t see what yer doin’! I can see when I’m bein’ ganged up on. Fuck you. Fuck all of ya!”

With that he stormed out of the common room.

Lilynette piped up from where she’d been carving stones into toys for the Adjuchas in the corner. “You don’t think he’s gonna…”

“If he gets caught, I ain’t rescuin’ him.” Nnoitra arched his back, hands behind his head, one leg crossed over the other, and Santa Teresa propped against the wall next to him.

Ulquiorra sniffed, “That goes without saying.”

Starrk nodded, “The rules apply to us all, not just Betas.”

“We’ve been extremely lucky with your forays to the Human World, Cuarta.” Halibel rumbled, drawing her fingers through Nel’s hair. “Not that we aren’t grateful for your pet human’s ability, but now that the last of us is whole again, and we are free of the usurper’s taint,” again they all hissed at the door, “I think it is time to return to the old ways. The Shinigami do not know we are here. It is best if they never find out.”

“Last year’s litter was small due to only Szayel being healed enough to go into heat. I don’t think we can count on that again this year. Not now that we’ve all been treated.” Starrk agreed.

Szayel also nodded, though a touch smug as he had been the only one capable of healing himself. “I supposed it’s a good thing though. Having whelped only a month ago I can guarantee I won’t be joining you all this season. I almost shudder to think what my brood would have been like had my Alpha been fully healed as well.”

The look he exchanged with Nnoitra contradicted his words however, and he shivered, mildly disappointed that he’d be missing out on the best sex of the year.

A chitter from the corner drew his attention then and he had to extract himself from Tesla’s arms without giving Mila Rose a chance to support herself. Apacci slid into his spot with practiced ease. Sun-sun barely noticed her pillow had shifted until Szayel stepped over her. That made Starrk grunt in a particularly canine fashion, as the boa had been playing blanket over his belly, and thus he was now cold. Halibel moved to resettle so that she was leaning back on the Primera and thus fixed the gap Szayel’s leaving caused in the pile. He reached his young at the same time, and gathered the four of them to his side while Nel moved on to another ribbon, entirely undisturbed by the whole shift.

However, the cooing of infantile Adjuchas drew all seven of them to watching the Octava feed his children. Most felt a combination of jealousy and desire, but only a few actively wanted to be in Szayel’s place. They had been among the first Orihime healed, in the hopes that rejecting the usurper’s meddling would unclog their biology and let them move on from the war.

Six years was long enough. The Espada were tired of being the only band in Hueco Mundo who was frozen in time. The Tercera, specifically, hoped that with the Fullbringer’s help they would no longer be barren. If that could not be fixed, even with Szayel breeding every time he came into season, their pack would fail. They would die, regardless of their strength. She knew it personally, and refused to go through it again.

As soon as the reiatsu in the common room settled back into normal, Grimmjow frowned down the hall behind him. He could so easily just go hunt something, bring it back, and the pride would gladly forget the idea of his leaving. But…

They all knew better. Which was why two seconds later the collected Hollows breathed a simultaneous sigh as the Sexta darted off through a garganta.

Seireitei was asleep. Mostly. But surviving in Hueco Mundo meant mastering the art of stealth as well as gaining power. So slipping silently around sentries was too easy. Only his desire to be discreet kept him from murdering each and every one of them. Starting a war with the Shinigami would cause trouble for the ones left at home, and reckless though he was, stupid he was not.

And being distracted didn’t hurt either.

The berry was here. Scent and reiatsu both saturated his nose. He could’ve gotten lost in that bright flag were it not for the sense of rival Alphas lurking about. They gave him a purpose, a focus, because if they were about and his prey still smelled like that… the Beta hadn’t chosen an Alpha yet.

So he doubled his speed, aiming for the wild forest deep within the berry boy’s territory. Shinigami scents overlapped his prey’s around the house, making Grimmjow’s lip curl and a small growl built in his chest. They had no business being that friendly with the redhead he planned to mate. Either they were stupid and he should kill them for not recognizing the signs; or they hoped to mate the Beta and Grimm should kill them to eliminate the pathetic competition; or… they were deliberately ignoring the gigantic warning the berry was giving off, and he should just kill them outright for being Shinigami asshole bastards lying to his prey in the first place.

The panther broke through the treeline just as the full moon cleared the horizon and a tortured howl shattered the night. He’d expected that. It was another reason why he’d planned to travel at night.

Because Hueco Mundo was in perpetual darkness with a moon that never waxed or waned, when exposed to astronomical conditions that _did_ change, the Beta Hollows’ internal cycle changed with it. So when the moon was full, and in the sky, the Beta was downright insatiable, nearly feral from heat. Their fevers spiked, their cramps intensified, and they sought to entice anyone who could even remotely register as Alpha to their reiatsu—Hollow, Shinigami, and Human alike.

So, naturally the berry bitch was desperate for it; just like the Sexta had been hoping.

Following the sounds, Grimmjow no longer cared if the whole of Seireitei woke up; there was an immensely powerful Beta on the other side of the trees and by all the gods he’d be the Alpha chosen this year! On the edges of his senses he felt the Shinigami wannabes stirring, most likely drawn out by the Beta’s incessant calling.

Well, they were too late.

He landed in the Beta’s clearing with a snarl, the scent of the other making his lip pull back from his teeth. He released his reiatsu in a wave of teal to announce his intentions, and gold eyes watched him from high in a tree across the open space.

Now confronted, the howl became a rattling hiss. A cloud moved so that the moon illuminated the fever-pale berry, standing perpendicular to the tree trunk without a care in the world. He was bare to the waist, blood-stained, and held the strange hollowed out tanto in his off hand. Though not obvious, Grimmjow was sure the Khyber knife was somewhere nearby; close enough that the ginger could call it via chain.

The Arrancar took a step forward, his own hand drifting towards Pantera, but grinning wildly.

All at once, Ichigo charged him, blade at his throat and teeth bare. “You’re not real!”

His back hit a tree and bark exploded from the force. He laughed, “The heat’s scrambled yer head, berry bitch.”

“You’re not real!” The ginger insisted, growling more, “This is a fever dream, a trick! You died!”

Desgarron removed the force at his back, and he spun to reverse the hold on his prey, Pantera across the berry’s throat just under his Adam’s apple. Grimmjow licked a stripe up his Beta’s neck, grinding his crotch against the other’s rear. A moan rumbled through them both, though Ichigo’s was louder, and from the tremble down his spine, he was distracted enough to forget to retaliate.

“This ain’t no dream, berry bitch. I got here first. If ya didn’t want an Alpha, ya shouldn’t’ve been caterwaulin’ fer one.” Grimmjow growled into the Beta’s ear.

That broke the spell on his body and the ginger jabbed his elbow into the wrongness of the Arrancar’s stomach hole. The shock of cold and invasion sprang the two of them apart like similarly charged magnets. The redhead held his arm, curled around himself and hissing from the pins and needles going through his funny bone, and the blue haired feline spazzed across the clearing with a yowl, clutching his stomach in remembered pain.

Both glared at the other for several seconds before they clashed again; blade to blade this time and growl-hissing in each other’s face. They broke again and again, always to come crashing together in a wave of red and black versus blue, before Grimmjow miscalculated.

It wasn’t really his fault, though Ichigo could not be blamed either. The longer they fought, the harder it was for the Sexta to think clearly. The intoxicating scent coming from the Beta was clouding his thoughts faster than any other mate he’d ever had. Whether that was an after effect of becoming an Arrancar was uncertain, and truly didn’t matter at the moment. The urge to rush through the fight and just claim the berry was so strong!

But Grimmjow hadn’t become the third strongest Alpha in the desert by rushing through everything. Contrary to his pride members’ thinking, he knew well the benefits of waiting, of biding his time. So instead he concentrated on drawing out the fight. He parried, gave ground, chased the berry when he retreated, bobbed and weaved, and grew more cocky with every failed attempted on his hide.

Which proved to be his downfall, and the turning point.

Ichigo darted to the right, his tanto up in front of his face, aiming to strike his opponent as though he was going to rend him open from stem to stern. But instead of dodging as he had been, Grimmjow flashed into the strike, his body turned to present the thick meat of his shoulder to the blade. Sure as the steadily marching moon, the short sword bit into his flesh, carving a sickle shape into his deltoid. Blood splashed back from the momentum, and caught Ichigo across the face.

Copper flooded his mouth, and his vision blurred, tears forming to clear his eyes. He stumbled away, panting and wiping at his face with the back of his wrists. When he could see again, his eyes went wide, surveying the damage he’d caused.

The Arrancar hissed lightly in pain, eyeing the wound with irritation. Then he switched Pantera to his off hand and dropped into a ready-stance, favoring his bad shoulder.

When Ichigo didn’t move, Grimmjow scowled deeper, “Well, c’mon then! First blood don’t count as a win, berry bitch!”

“G-Grimm?” The Visored’s voice was small. He took a step forward, and the Arrancar tensed until the white tanto dropped into the grass. “I-Is it… really…? They… They said you were…”

The closer Ichigo got the more confused Grimmjow became until they were nose to nose, Pantera pressed against the redhead’s chest ineffectually, and Ichigo’s hand was on the Sexta’s mask.

He spoke in a disbelieving whisper, “It’s really you…”

Some note in the berry’s voice broke through the pheromone-induced adrenaline high. Blue eyes searched gold. “What’d they do to you, Kitten?”

Like the start of a race, Ichigo surged into his embrace, arms wrapping tight around his neck and the berry’s mouth latched onto any available patch of skin that was in reach. It left Grimmjow with no other recourse but to drop Pantera so he could return the embrace, hiking the Beta’s legs up around his waist so he could control their fall back onto the grass. Somewhere in the middle their mouths met and reiatsu flooded the clearing around them, both blocking out the other night noises and secluding them in a bubble, isolated from outside observers.

The Beta was _his!_

For Ichigo, it felt a bit like falling into his inner world, except for the way the grass poked at the exposed skin of his shins. Somehow his hands found their way into Grimmjow’s hair, and his tongue tasted the Espada’s own. Mint and fir trees; prickly and burning in the way of a winter wind against his mind. He hiked his hips, and Grimmjow gripped them, his fingers slipping into the gap of his hakama, where the belt was coming loose.

A whine escaped between them when the redhead had to pull back to breathe. He sat up, staring down at the Alpha with black flooding his eyes. He rumbled something like an iguana, and dove for the bloody wound on Grimmjow’s shoulder with a new vengeance. The feline hissed, his back arching when his skin was torn further open. In retaliation, he dug his claws into the berry’s sides, earning him a rattling hiss in return.

Their eyes met again, challenge and defiance between them, and the clothing had to go!

Who tore what off of which body was hard to determine, but hakama of both colors were shredded and somehow Grimmjow’s jacket landed in the branches of a nearby tree. Fully bare to the elements unleashed what little restraint the berry seemed to have because one bitten bloody mark became two, then three. All the while Grimmjow responded by pulling and tearing at any available patch of Ichigo’s skin with his claws. They were torn up and lost to a cloud of pheromones when all at once Ichigo found Grimmjow’s dick.

The force and focus of his onslaught changed entirely once he was presented with the Alpha’s erection. He sat back again, head tilted to the side, long enough that Grimmjow actually propped himself up on his elbows to find out what the Beta was doing. But before he could say anything, Ichigo leaned forward onto his elbows, eyes locked on his Alpha’s dick.

At first, all he did was stare, mouth slightly open—scenting the feline from his core. Then he touched it, gently, with his hand; slowly wrapping his fingers around it. Much too slowly as far as Grimmjow was concerned, but he held himself back, his claws dug into the ground beneath him. One wrong move on his part and he’d be gelded. The look in Ichigo’s burning eyes told him that much. They jumped to his face after the redhead nosed his shaft for the first time. The groan of satisfaction couldn’t have been stopped even if he’d wanted to, for all that noises disrupted the exploring Beta.

Moving on from his hand, Ichigo took to rubbing his chin and cheeks against his Alpha’s groin, from inner thighs to happy trail. Logically, this was the Beta exchanging his scent with his chosen Alpha, but generally this was done _after_ sex! When the Alpha wasn’t laying there shivering with the desire to flip the Beta and take him until they were both a sobbing mess of blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids.

But the berry was having none of it.

Every time Grimmjow so much as twitched, Ichigo would look up at him with that compelling promise of death by gelding. Gold irises on a sclera of ebony; it was like staring down at a Vasto Lorde and knowing if he got hungry there was nothing that could stop him from turning the mating ritual into dinner. And damn if that didn’t make the Sexta’s lust coil hotter!

Finally! After leaving bite marks just deep enough to draw blood on both of Grimmjow’s inner thighs, finally, Ichigo climbed him, trailing his tongue as he went. Across one hip bone, around the edges of the Alpha’s Hollow hole, over the mounds of his abdominals, and beyond the plane of his pectorals to the edge of his mask. This lined the Beta’s body on top of his own and he dared to bring his hands to the toned rise of Ichigo’s ass, palming both cheeks. This pulled them open some.

The moan the redhead let out was almost too much, especially as it vibrated straight through the wicked bone attached to his jaw.

“F-fuck, Kitten…” Grimmjow shivered, his claws pricking skin unintentionally.

Ichigo rolled his hips, forcing contact between them with a pulse of reiatsu. The Alpha’s nose flared, his pupils shrank to slits even as the lids blew wide, and in a flash he reversed their positions. Coherent thought disappeared as scent and reiatsu combined to trigger Phase Two of the mating ritual.

He was found to be loyal and determined enough, and whether the Beta was strong enough had stopped being a question so long ago that the Alpha actually had trouble remembering a time when he hadn’t been worthy.

So with a press of reiatsu the panther released his form, all fur instead of armor, driving the reptilian hybrid into the ground with ebony paws. This prompted the trifecta of spirits within the Beta to merge. Fur sprouted at his wrists and ankles, his mouth filled with hollow fangs, and a long scaled tail thrashed beneath him with impatience. A rumbling hiss was met with a soothing growl, and his legs were spread around the Alpha’s hips.

The pointed end of the feline’s barbed cock pressed at his entrance, and had the reptile the presence of mind to think about it, he’d have realized that hole wasn’t there normally, nor was it clear when it developed. As it was though, heat clouded his mind and his very soul was invaded with his Alpha’s reiatsu.

He cried out in a barking chirp when the Alpha seated himself, and almost immediately the Beta was rocking his hips to drive the barbs deeper. His head fell back, his hands scratched at the other’s biceps, and he keened, arching his back.

The panther loved those sounds. He growled and purred, folding his mate in half to thrust harder, faster, deeper. It was tight, hot, and just the right kind of wet. And the Beta’s core was draining his reiatsu wells so fast it was like being fucked while fucking him. But one climax or a hundred he wasn’t stopping until he’d filled every nook and cranny of the lizard’s soul!

Higher and higher, and closer and closer, until the Alpha had his teeth in the Beta’s shoulder. Their reiatsu burned white hot, winding like a spring between them. The redhead turned, panting and whimpering, to mouth at the panther’s jaw, just as he struck far deeper than he had before. One let out a keening moan, the other roared, and the spring snapped.

When Ichigo came to the world was moving ever so slightly up and down. He was warm and comfortable, so he didn’t think much of it. The gentle purring in his ear didn’t help him wake up at all. He yawned, giving a small squeak, and stretched his spine from fingers all the way to his toes. Then he blinked, rolling over, and smiled.

Bright blue eyes smiled back at him. “Mornin’.”

Grimmjow nuzzled him, rubbing the side of his cheek without his mask along Ichigo’s forehead and nose. The redhead caught himself relaxing at the touch, a surge of pheromones and reiatsu in his mindscape like a puff of perfume, and a rattling purr echoed out of his chest in response. He closed his eyes again, mimicking the scent marking over Grimmjow’s chest with the bottom of his chin. Tucking his arms and legs under him, he followed through with the motion until he was nose to nose with the Arrancar. And still, he rubbed noses before finally kissing him like a human.

Mid-kiss he felt callused hands on his hips, and he snickered, “We’re naked.”

“Yup.”

“In the middle of the woods.”

“Yup.”

Those hands slipped down to tease the berry’s crack and the tops of his thighs in one motion. He squirmed but didn’t pull away. A very small part of him wondered why he wasn’t blushing, but the rest of him was beginning to rut against this mate’s hips. His mouth found a convenient patch of skin to suckle on and his own hands snaked between them to play with both interested cocks.

It was slow and languid. Grimm’s finger found Ichigo’s pucker, circling it a couple of times but never penetrating. They kissed, hips bucking into Ichi’s grip. When both were fully hard and leaking, the Espada slipped his other hand between them to catch some of the precome. It wasn’t enough to fully stretch the redhead but it made the teasing that much easier. Which in turn tightened Ichigo’s hand and made him moan in Grimmjow’s ear.

When they climaxed it was just as slow as everything else. The redhead came first thanks to the hint of things to come at his backdoor, and the slick shuddering of aftershocks carried Grimmjow after him almost immediately.

The Sexta rolled them over then, and bent to lick their releases from the hybrid’s skin, paying special attention to the hand span of stomach below the berry’s belly button. He was just lifting himself over his mate for another kiss when their tranquility was shattered.

“Howl, Zabimaru!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter Art](http://sta.sh/04eavtlaxxb)


	6. Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... yeah... it's been a while. I basically kept putting it off because I was worried that this would be a let down after the last chapter, and have been dealing with a SERIOUS art block regarding chapter art. So, in an effort to try and get chapters out faster, I'm gonna stop drawing something for every chapter. If I get inspired I'll do it, but if not, I'll just post it as is.
> 
> Anyway, sorry about the delay! Un-beta'd to get it to you guys without any further waiting. Thanks for being so patient!!

A clash of steel against what sounded like concrete rang out through the early morning air, and a shower of sparks rained down across Ichigo’s lap. Looking up, the source was the strike of Renji’s Zanpakuto against his Alpha’s shoulder. The Arrancar sneered with his teeth bare.

Along with the rest of him.

Which he shamelessly put on display as he stood, his hand wrapped around the retraction cables between Zabimaru’s teeth. From Ichigo’s perspective, Grimmjow moved in slow, graceful steps until he was facing the advancing Shinigami.

Instinct warred within the redhead.

On one hand the three entering the clearing at high speed clearly meant to harm his mate, which meant he needed to keep his head down, conserve his strength, and conceal his power in case the threat was too great for his Alpha to overcome. The element of surprise was a Beta’s greatest weapon, and holding onto that advantage for as long as possible had ensured pack survival going back for thousands of years.

He knew this, but on the other hand the so-called threat were actually his pack members. Which meant they registered as safe to approach and led him to curl around his Alpha’s legs in an attempt to pacify the often too-territorial male.

And the most accessible option for pacification was handing proud and exposed for all the world to see between his legs.

These two instincts—to keep down or rise up—had the berry Beta growling. He scooted forward to rest his cheek against Grimmjow’s thigh in a compromise between the two. His Alpha was still between him and the so-called threat, but he was also right there where a turn of his head would put him in range of the sky topped disco stick. He gave snicker at that thought, and earned a tender stroke of claws through his hair for it.

The Espada’s stance was firm and solid, holding tight to Renji’s sword, but at the same time the big redhead wasn’t yanking it back either. This told Grimm the attack hadn’t been serious; because if it had been Renji would have pulled it back for another swing already. No, neither rival male concerned him. It was the female Alpha bearing down on their mating ground that worried him.

Though, even then, he’d stabbed her before; he could do it again.

And this close to consummating their mating, Ichi-bitch would forgive him. Already the Beta was rubbing up against him, impatient to get rid of the threat so they could get back to more important things.

“Unhand Ichigo, Hollow!” The female shrieked, leveling her sword at him.

She clearly thought he was incapacitated with his hands busy and standing there nude. She even balked when her eyes took in the extend of his full front.

“Like whatcha see, Shinigami?” He snickered, releasing the Zanpakuto.

Renji came to a stop next to her just in time to hear that. He had to snort to stop the bark of laughter Grimmjow could see at the back of his teeth. The Arrancar was mentally impressed. Red didn’t seem the type to play manipulation games. For whatever reason, his body language said that even though he was wary of Grimmjow, he didn’t see the feline as a threat. If he’d been Hollow, the Sexta would have chalked it up to being too late to the mating. Being part of the Berry’s pack meant if he treated Grimm with respect, he might get a shot at mating the Beta next time.

Really, it was hard to remember the big redhead wasn’t Arrancar himself. He already had the instincts and the power for it.

But the other one.

He sneered at her again, and gave his hips a little shake.

“Ugh! Put some clothes on, pervert!” She let the tip of her blade droop in her disgust.

Before Grimm could capitalize on that mistake there was a blond Beta between them. He honestly had forgotten that there had been three invaders to their morning until right then. Shinji, his mind supplied, had been the second one to come between him and his berry back before the fiery Beta was mature.

Grimm raised his eyebrow, “Didn’t I promise ta kill you th’ next time ya came b’tween me an’ my prey?”

“Heh. Don’t think ya wanna do that, Kitty-kun.” The blond gave him a smile that reminded him of Nnoitra, only worse because at least the Quinto was an Alpha.

“Gimme one good reason not ta, an’ I’ll think ‘bout it.” His gruff tone covered the way he shivered.

What the Hell was his Beta doing!? He didn’t dare look down to find out, not without two other Alphas and an already mated Beta staring at him. But he could feel Ichigo’s hand rubbing across the skin below his Hollow hole. To say it did nothing couldn’t have been further from the truth as his dick swelled with each touch until the full frontal he was giving the others included a thick erection.

Not that the observers bothered him. In fact he found their discomfort hilarious. Even the blond Beta was glancing at it while Ichigo played, half paying attention.

“Dear God, what have you done to him!?” Rukia screeched again, her stance back to being able to call her Zanpakuto in spite of Ichigo being in the blast radius for most of her attacks.

Shinji rolled his eyes, completely disregarding Grimmjow and his mate to glare primarily at her. “I told ya not to bother ‘em. It’s not somethin’ ya can understand.”

“What is there to understand!? The Hollow’s brainwashed Ichigo!” The Midget glared beyond him to the other two.

“In… a manner of speakin’...” the blond man winced.

Renji gave him a look over Rukia’s head. That wasn’t helping. Of course, neither was Ichigo with his hands working Grimmjow’s dick like all he wanted was to get back on it. The Sixth’s fukutaicho shivered at the want in his friend’s face. He wasn’t entirely sure if Ichigo knew what he was doing, but the normally quite prudish ginger obviously didn’t know he was being watched. Either that… or he didn’t care.

Rukia and Shinji were arguing to his left but Renji couldn’t tear his eyes off of the younger redhead. There was some compelling drive to watch. It wasn’t even lustful exactly. He just had to make sure… what? That Ichigo was doing it right? It was true Renji knew more about blowjobs and handjobs than his younger friend, but that part didn’t seem important. His eyes flicked to Grimmjow’s and a smug agreement flickered over the Arrancar’s features. That settled the something. Grimmjow was pleased, and that meant… Ichigo was a good… what? The word was missing from his mind. It felt like he should have known it, but it wasn’t coming to him.

While he watched, Grimmjow squirmed, a hand on Ichigo’s forehead and scowled at him in frustration. The younger’s mouth was open and he stretched his tongue out to lave over the other’s erection. It drew a squashed groan from the blunet, and another warning look. Renji could just picture the defiance in Ichigo’s eyes, even though his back was turned to the Shinigami.

Then Rukia’s voice cut through the scene, “What do you mean it’s rude?! He’s a Hollow! All Hollows need to be cleansed, to bring balance to the cycle of rebirth!”

“Ya can’t honestly tell me ya believe that bullshit, Kuchiki! Yer smarter’n that! Ya’ve worked with Ichi in close quarters!” Shinji was losing his patience; Ichigo’s wasn’t the only morning-after being interrupted after all.

But the Midget didn’t seem to want to listen, “The cycle of rebirth must be protected. Hollows are caused by Shinigami losing sight of that purpose. Now, Hirako-taicho, if you won’t aid us in cleansing the Arranger, at least stand out of the way so I am not forced to put you under arr—”

She broke off when the trees to their left exploded.

All three traced the blast back to the pair in the center of the clearing, but the smug shock on Grimmjow’s face directed them to the redhead at his feet. Slowly, and just as nude, Ichigo stood up, his eyes locked on Rukia. A low growl reverberated through the air. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. White began to creep up his arms and legs from his fingers and toes, sprouting thick red fur at his wrists and ankles as he started towards them.

Renji looked to Grimmjow, but the Arrancar just grinned with a shake of his head.

“Ichi—” Rukia started.

But Shinji cut her off, his hand over her mouth in spite of having turned to face the angry Beta. He hissed to the other Shinigami without ever breaking eye contact. “We need to leave. Now. And not come back unless one of them comes to get us.”

Under his palm the blond Visored felt the beginnings of another argument start to form on Rukia’s mouth, but Renji flash stepped behind them to wrap his arms around his childhood friend.

He seemed to have picked up cues from Shinji because he didn’t turn his back on Ichigo either. In fact, the three walked in tandem backwards, eyes on Ichigo, until they reached the treeline and their vision of the clearing was obscured. Neither male thought they’d be pursued once they were out of sight, but to be on the safe side, as soon as they were far enough, both turned and flash stepped in tandem all the back to Shinji’s office.

As soon as they arrived in the division, Kensei had the door to the captain’s apartment open and waiting for them. While that itself was odd enough, the captain of the Ninth was more underdressed than usual, only wearing Living World-style pyjama pants, not even any slippers. Or underwear from the way the waistband hung on his hips. However, as intimacy was not forbidden between Shinigami of the same rank, that could have been easily written off. They were all mature adults after all, even if the pairing was a little strange and unexpected to the younger officers. No, what stood out as the most unexplainable was the way Kensei hauled Shinji through the door and into his arms even before Renji, who was bringing up the rear, closed it.

The silver haired Visored seemed to be burying his nose in the blond’s hair and rubbing his chin over Shinji’s forehead. His hands clasped around the small of Shinji’s back and the back of his head all like he’d been afraid he’d never see him again. Granted they’d known they were going up against an Arrancar when they’d set out, but Renji didn’t think either captain had been that worried at the time.

“Now, now, Kensei-kun, you’re scarin’ the guests.”

“Urahara?!” Renji was taken aback by the shopkeeper’s appearance.

Because the entrance was just off of Shinji’s living room, the similarly dressed exile only had to exit the kitchen to be in sight of the four in the genkan. He, too, only wore pyjama bottoms, but skill had his hat. In his hands were six mugs of steaming tea; three in each fist somehow. His response to Renji was a smile, and he made his way to the low table crowning the living space.

“You’re supposed to register with the Sotaicho when you’re going to be here.” Rukia piped up for the first time since she realized neither Shinji nor Renji were listening to her.

“That is true. How do you know I haven’t?” His smirk was all the answer they needed.

But Rukia pressed forward anyway, “We’d have heard about it at a meeting a day before you got the clearance to come inside Seireitei.”

“Oh trust me, Kuchiki-san,” Kisuke glanced at Shinji and Kensei, “I’ve been coming inside Seireitei without Yama-jii’s permission for years.”

Renji choked on his tea.

“You alright there, Freeloader-san?”

“Peachy…” he wheezed, deliberately setting the cup down.

Color lit up Rukia’s cheeks and she plopped down next to Renji with a little huff. “THAT I didn’t need to know.”

That left Shinji and Kensei alone in the entryway for a moment while Kisuke continued to tease the youngsters.

“You’re alright, right? I don’t need ta hurt the berry boy, do I?” Kensei rumbled in his ear.

“Nah. He’s fine, I’m fine, yer fine, we’re all fine.” Shinji grinned, subtly nuzzling the other’s cheek. “We were right though.”

“It’s the panther?”

“Yeah. Berry boy was nook-deep in him. If we didn’t have to keep the Kuchiki brat distracted, I’d show ya just what ‘e was doin’.”

Kensei grunted, stifling a moan, as Shinji’s hands found the front of his pants, pawing that the half-awake flesh underneath.

The Alpha grit his teeth and bit down on his Beta’s ear, “Ya keep that up and I won’t care ‘bout Kuchiki.”

“Then I’d best stop, huh? B’fore Mashi gets wind.”

_Very_ reluctantly, Shinji pulled away to join the other three at the table, and Kensei reached down to adjust his ‘problem’ before following. Like the sound of her name had summoned her, as soon as the silver-haired Alpha sat down he had a lap full of Mashiro, curled under his chin as though she hadn’t just pounced him from halfway across the room. And her state of dress answered where Kensei’s shirt was.

It barely covered her nethers.

“Kensei left the nest. Mashiro was cold with just Kisuke. Then Kisuke left the nest and Mashiro was alone. But Kensei said stay so Mashiro stayed. But Mashiro not stay anymore! Mashiro cold! Hmph!” She pouted at them all but continued to cling to her captain.

Kisuke chuckled, “That’s why I got up to make tea, Mashi.” When all she did was huff over her cup, he shook his head, “Every year I’m reminded why I don’t experiment on myself. Ah well, at least Mashi just gets clingy. You get downright demanding when you’re Mate Sick.”

“I do not!” Shinji looked affronted. “You try being the bottom for days on end plus fever, cramps, and God only knows what all else! I think we’re entitled to a little pampering at the end of it.”

“And during and before and in between.” Kisuke snickered, looking at Renji and Rukia as if to say ‘see what I mean?’

Shinji huffed again and forcibly put his legs over the shopkeeper’s lap while leaning his back against Kensei’s shoulder.

Renji chuckled sipping his tea, “It could be worse, ya know.”

“Oh? How so, Freeloader-san?” Kisuke’s eyes sparkled like he already knew what the redhead was going to say.

Renji grinned, “At least ya don’t work with him.”

“Renji!” Rukia elbowed him and hissed. “Do you know nothing of stealth!? What if the room is bugged?! Kurotsuchi has ears everywhere!”

The blonds and the redhead exchanged a look before Renji spoke again, “It’s fine.”

“How? You’re being too casual, lummox-brain.”

“Because, Midget, if Urahara is here without permission and brought Mashiro here without permission, I can guarantee you any bugs Kurotsuchi put in here are disabled. And on top of that what I said is true.” Renji sighed patiently. How did she not get it? “Urahara and Hirako-taicho don’t work together, so his personal issues stay at home. Something that’s obvious ta even Ichigo. I don’t know what conclusion ya came ta from that, but I’m sure it’s not the truth.” Here he smirked wider, and winked, “that’d be illegal.”

Slow on the uptake maybe, but Rukia was not stupid. She looked at each of them in turn, then made a small ‘oh’ and blushed lightly for having not picked up on it at first. Renji snickered into his own cup. So she shoulder-bumped him good-naturedly.

“So what is Mate Sick and does it have anything to do with why Ichigo was all over that Arrancar?” Her told was cold.

Shinji shivered and Kisuke gave a small cough. Then he spoke, “Something like that, Kuchiki-san.”

When it was clear none of the four of them was going to elaborate, Rukia scowled. “You really expect me to let it go with just that?!”

Kensei grumbled into Mashiro’s hair, “One can hope…”

Which made his mate giggle, sticking her tongue out between her teeth.

Renji cleared his throat uneasily. Something about the whole thing told him he really didn’t want to know, but the same something reasoned he was about to find out whether he wanted to or not so he’d better settle in and buckle his seatbelt.

He promptly told Zabimaru to stuff it, and turned his attention to Kisuke just in time to hear Rukia complain.

“But that just doesn’t make any sense. With how powerful Ichigo is, how can he be anything but Alpha?” She shook her head, unable to comprehend it.

“Simple, he just is. Ichiberry’s the best! Better than Mashiro!”

“Mashi…” Kensei growled.

She pouted, her arms crossed under her chest.

Kisuke chuckled, absently rubbing Shinji’s ankles. “It’s something leftover from the inner Hollow’s genetic memory, designed to help them deal with living in the desert.”

“But Hollows don't have genetic memory. Hollows are formed when Pluses don’t get Konso’d in time.” Renji frowned. “Every Shinigami knows that.”

“Every Shinigami that’s gone ta Shino maybe.” Shinji snorted, then seemed to take pity on the two youngest. “Look, that’s what we thought too. Hell, if Aizen hadn’t pulled his shit we might never’ve known, but not all Hollows once were Living Pluses. The same way not all Shinigami were. Fragments of souls in either world, too damaged ta exist on their own, exist as…?”

“Children.” They spoke at the same time with differing levels of horror.

Renji swallowed his first, “So, when we cleanse a Hollow, we could be orphanin’ someone?!”

“No!” Kisuke was quick to respond, but it didn’t seem to alleviate the green tint to Rukia’s cheeks. “Hollow children, called cubs, are born only to high-level Adjuchas and up. These Hollows have no interest in the human world because eating other Hollows is more effective. Think of it as eating cattle. Why go after a single piece of bacon when you could have a whole steak?”

Kensei rolled his eyes, “Mixed references or not, the bottom line is that one Plus ain’t gonna do anythin’ for ‘em. Eatin’ a fellow Adjuchas is more fillin’.”

He went back to petting Mashiro, her legs tangled around Shinji’s waist so that they were linked. The blond Visored wouldn’t be able to get up without disturbing her, which effectively trapped both Kisuke and Kensei on the couch.

“Okay, but what does that have to do with Ichigo?” Renji asked.

The others gave him a look that meant he should have been paying attention, but Kisuke waved off any protest in favor of simply explaining again.

“Because these Hollows are such a conglomeration of souls, the concept of male and female gets blurred. Over the eons that Hollows as a species have existed, their genetics have changed. No longer is procreation a thing left entirely to females. The percentage of truly female Hollows is actually quite low, believe it or not. The fact that the Visored pack has three, let alone that two of those register as--”

“Kissu.” Shinji poked him with a smirk, and the inventor-cum-shopkeeper looked flustered and a tiny bit lost.

“Ah, right.” He smiled sheepishly, waving his fan in front of his face, “Gender and biology. Anyway, what it’s boiled down to is that there are seed-carriers, called Alphas, and cub-carriers, called Betas.”

Both Renji and Rukia looked somewhat dumbfounded by the way Kisuke had rambled on. This made Shinji snicker, poorly hidden behind his tea.

“Well, if you know so much, Mr. Up-at-dawn, you explain it to them.” The exile Shinigami pouted in a way that made it hard to tell if he was joking.

“Tsk tsk, the great Urahara-sensei, done in by being too smart.”

The sunny blond elbowed Mashiro, who in turn tickled the shopkeeper’s ear, and sent him scurrying to the kitchen for more tea. When the buggy Visored had once again settled on Kensei’s lap her pack leader continued where Kisuke left off.

“Ya got what Kissu said ‘bout bunches a souls right?”

Rukia held up a Chappy drawing to show off her notes. The sort-of-bunnies were blue and pink with varying levels of “Hollow” face and some of them had bows. The entire gathered group frowned at it trying to figure out exactly what she was attempting to represent.

Except Mashiro, who nodded sagely, understand it completely, “Exactly!”

Renji scowled, “I seriously dunno how ya…”

“It’s like Urahara-san said.” Rukia smiled smugly. She pointed with her marker, “When a Plus becomes a Hollow, it technically has no gender at all because it’s just a fallen soul, one Zanpakuto strike away from the Cycle of Rebirth.” This was a plain white Chappy with an angry face. “So it does what a Hollow does. Eating souls both living and dead.”

She pointed to the Chappy chasing blobs of color Renji assumed were supposed to be souls. He glanced at Shinji only to receive a shrug. Mashiro wasn’t paying any attention since she’d understood it the first time, and Kensei, bored with hearing the same thing over again, was snoring. Renji suspected Kisuke was actually hiding in the kitchen. The tea was taking an awfully long time to make.

Rukia moved on, “These souls have gender. Boys, girls, men, women. The more boys the Hollow eats, the more boy-like it becomes--”

“I think the polite way to say it is ‘they’.” Renji interrupted.

She frowned, “It’s a Hollow.”

Again the redhead looked to the others, but the most that happened was a snort from Kensei mid-snore as Rukia explained girls and a girl-eating Hollow in the same fashion.

“So, by the time it breaks its mask the percentage of girls versus boys is what determines the sex of the Arrancar.”

The Midget was so sure of herself that she didn’t notice the look exchanged between blonds or the way Renji seemed to sense there was more to it than just that. After all Kisuke had mentioned ‘cubs’.

“Something like that, Rukia-chan.” Kisuke was back and somehow had his fan in front of his smile.

And there was no tea.

He turned her notebook to a new page and flawlessly copied her horrid Chappy doodles. “A Hollowfied Plus, when they retain their mind, also retains their gender they had when they were alive. Let’s say a boy. Now,” he colored the Plus Chappy in blue, “when he consumes Hollows and Pluses as he gets stronger, the gender of those souls adds to not only his reiatsu power level, but also to what we’ll call his gender meter.” He added a scale to the edge of the paper. “Due to thousands of years of Hollow genetics the stronger the Hollow becomes the more gender weight female souls have, and thus the more female he becomes reiatsu-wise. But never does his original gender appearance change. He still looks like a man when he breaks his mask to become an Arrancar.”

This time Renji got it, though Rukia seemed a little disgruntled . The redhead turned it over in his mind for a bit, exchanging the ideas with Zabimaru and working it out more thoroughly. They came to the conclusion that since souls in their most basic form don’t have any gender whatsoever, a Plus could easily change from one gender to another or any combination of genders along Kisuke’s scale; ranging from all the way female with a female appearance to all the way male with a male appearance. The nue made a comment about his Shinigami’s preferences and Renji resolutely ended the conversation to the sound of both heads laughing at him.

Then Rukia pointed to the Plus Chappy, “But Ichigo’s never consumed anyone.”

Shinji snickered, and earned a marker to the head for his dirty thoughts.

“That’s very true,” Kisuke continued as though it hadn’t happened. “In the case of Visored the concept seems to work backwards. The more reiatsu a Shinigami has before Hollowfying, the more likely it is they will evolve as a Beta.”

“Which is the Hollow equivalent ta female, yeah?” Renji confirmed.

“Great, they can be taught. Are we done wit’ biology?” Kensei grumbled, unable to keep sleeping for the talking.

“Just one more question,” Rukia was studying the notebook again. She looked up, “What does Urahara-san mean by ‘evolved’?”

Kensei groaned, his head falling back to the couch cushion, and Shinji had to physically cover Kisuke’s mouth while Mashiro laughed so hard her ribs started to ache. She wrapped her arms around them and kicked her feet, tears running down her face.

“I think ya both better go get some breakfast and report ta yer capt’ns while I’ve got ‘im restrained.” Shinji grinned.

His captive went from looking like he’d just been given unlimited access to Soul Society’s labs to licking the brighter blond’s palm from wrist to fingers.

“EUGH!”

That time Kensei joined in the chuckling and Mashiro fell off the couch to pound her fist into the carpet, wheezing for air. Shinji chased the silver haired Visored into the bedroom intent on wiping Kisuke’s spit on him. Mashiro followed not a hair behind to ‘defend her Alpha’ though she was still laughing in small, tittering bursts, which hindered her process by bouncing her off of the walls in over-compensated turns.

Kisuke watched, sipping his tea with a smile. Then he turned back to the others. “That will be a lesson for another day.”

“But…”

Renji put a hand on his sister-in-all-but-blood’s arm and shook his head. “Thank you, Urahara-san, for the tea and the information. Enjoy your day.”

Then they stood, gathered their things, and left at Renji’s insistence. As soon as the door shut on them, Kisuke could hear Rukia protesting, and he shook his head fondly.

After a moment, he frowned at the coffee table as though he could still see the notebook. He would have to pay his dearest student a visit. If the vibrant Visored truly had mated an Arrancar it put the wheels in motion a great deal sooner than he’d originally intended. Ah, but trust Ichigo to push things full steam ahead regardless of the consequences.


	7. Pregnant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SWEAR I'M NOT DEAD AND I HAVEN'T ABANDONED THIS FIC!!! It's just been REALLY slow going because I let myself down by not continuing to make chapter art for it... But I've decided the story is more important than the art, so I'm going back and deleting the pics from here. I'll put links to them on my DA page in the notes at the end of the chapters, but I don't think I'll be making any other full illustrations for this. Maybe some doodles, or sketches, but I just don't have time for full colored pieces, even as slowly as I'm working on the chapters themselves.
> 
> Anyway, I'm really, REALLY, sorry this took so long to update. I wish I could say I had an idea of when Chap 8 was going to be up, but... I don't wanna lie to you guys.
> 
> Un-beta'd, so pardon my mistakes and enjoy, minna!

“You need to see someone about this, Ichigo. It’s not normal.” Rukia frowned at him and sighed.

The exhausted ginger dragged himself out of the bathroom, pulling his shitagi back on. He barely glared at her for the shadows under his eyes, and said nothing as he made his way back out of her Division building. She didn’t know anything. He would be fine. All he needed was to hang on until nightfall, then everything would be fine. This was all part of the process.

And a Shinigami like her simply couldn’t understand.

“Look, it’s been two weeks this has been going on, and you look horrible.”

That time his glare almost reached normal scowl-levels, “Gee, thanks, Midget.”

“I mean it!” She waved off his disgruntled tone, and followed him out onto the street heading towards his home. They were a few minutes before the end of the day bell, but Ukitake-taicho wouldn’t care, and Ichigo’s captain, whoever they were, obviously didn’t need him to report back either. She reached out and put a hand on his arm, “Listen, I know I always sound like I think you know nothing, but this time, I really do think you’re out of your depth here! Shinigami don’t get sick like this. We just don’t. Viruses can’t bind to the… don’t give me that look, Ukitake-taicho is different!”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Just trust me, Midget, I’m fine. This is normal.”

“It is not! There’s only one reason Shinigami get sick like this, and that’s impossible! You don’t even have a partner!” Rukia huffed, but the scrunch of her mouth added concern over her exasperation.

“Listen…” The younger of the two sighed heavily, betraying his exhaustion, “go check in with Renji and Byakuya, and then meet me for dinner. I’ll try to explain it, okay?”

Seeming mollified, she gave a nod, but her scowl stayed in place, “No ducking out this time!”

“No ducking out. Promise.”

“Alright then.”

At the corner between the road to home and the Sixth, she broke away from him to collect her wayward brothers, and Ichigo wasted precious energy on a flash step to the sanctity of his territory. He had the crawling feeling of eyes on the back of his neck again. Though he appreciated her concern, he was dreading having to explain it, because he _knew_ she couldn’t understand. His memory of the confrontation a month ago was spotty at best, but he did remember the way she’d pushed into their sacred space.

Maybe… talking about it would help…

When Rukia arrived at Ichigo’s cabin, instead of just barging in she actually took Byakuya’s advice and knocked on the door.

And knocked.

And knocked…

Then let herself in as usual with the beginnings of a rant about him trying to avoid her again on top of shirking responsibilities, and why couldn’t he take being a Shinigami more seriously, because really Ichigo! It was about damn time he got his act together!

But the words died on her lips when she crossed into the living room after removing her shoes. She found him laid out on the couch, his head pillowed on his arm, fast asleep. He hadn’t even changed out of his shihakusho. From the looks of things he didn’t seem to have done anything after coming home except take his shoes off and lay down.

She sighed fondly, reminded of the nights when he was still in high school and studying until all hours of the morning because of Shinigami duties getting in the way of his homework. As she had then, she slipped silently through the room to pull the blanket from the back of the couch over him, and exited again to cook something for when he woke up. She wasn’t as good as Yuzu, but even living with servants hadn’t dulled her survival skills.

Thus, when Ichigo roused about an hour later, the first thing he noticed was the scent of stir-fried vegetables and steamed rice. He blinked at the blanket for a moment before getting up, and he entered the kitchen with a yawn and a stretch.

“Oh!” He seemed confused and surprised, “I was gonna cook. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She sounded too… he wasn’t sure… nice? Like she was dismissing that he’d inadvertently made her fix their dinner? Or something like that. He shook his head, stepping in to take the finished dishes to the table without needing to be asked.

They didn’t talk at all while they ate, Ichigo too focused on suddenly being starving, and Rukia lost in thought about how to broach the topic of his changes.

When the scrape of his chopsticks against the bowl ended, the woman leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. “So…”

Ichigo blinked. “So…?”

“You said you would explain.”

“Ah… yeah… um…” He looked at the table, frowning.

Rukia jumped up, “You promised no ducking out!”

“I’m not!” Ichigo brought his hands up, “I was thinking!!”

She didn’t seem convinced, but she sat back down anyway.

“Honest.” He sighed. “It’s hard to put into words, alright? And it’s kind of embarrassing. I… there’s this fever, it started the year I died. I think it might have been why I died. Shin seems to think so anyway… but it’s like cramping and hot and…” he trailed off, going red in the face.

“And?”

“And other stuff! Personal stuff!!”

“Ichigo, I lived in your closet, there is nothing about you I don’t know intimately! Do you know how many times your blankets slipped off while you were sleeping?! Trust me, nothing you could say could surprise me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted.

“I DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW THAT!”

“IT WAS YOUR BODY!”

“YOU WERE SNOOPING ON IT!!”

“I WAS NOT! YOU WERE JUST THERE!!”

He glared at her. She glared at him. And he huffed, sitting back in his chair with his own arms crossed and looking off to the side so he didn’t have to see her face when he spoke. “Fine. It’s like… needing to have sex. Like all the time. And not just a hard-on that won’t go away I mean like… I was compelled to do it, I couldn’t help it.”

“Ichigo, that’s called getting horny, and everybody does it. I don’t know why you think you’re special.” She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes at the same time.

“I KNOW THAT! But this isn’t THAT!” He could feel how red in the face he was. “I don’t… get like that. You know that! Inoue and Rangiku and Yoruichi… Always throwing themselves at me…” he shuddered, “Ugh!”

“So you’re gay. So?”

“I’m not gay either! I just don’t.”

“Okay okay! Fine, whatever, Mr. Special Snowflake. You don’t get horny, fine. So what was this then? Like you were in heat or something?”

“Yes. I was.”

She gave him a deadpan look.

And he scowled, “I mean it!”

“Only animals go into heat, dumbass.”

“Midget, we are animals.”

“Oh you!” She huffed, “I mean like cats and dogs and stuff. Not people. People don’t go into heat.” Then something seemed to click in her head almost audibly, “Wait a minute! So, assuming I buy into this ‘going into heat’ nonsense, are you telling me that you aren’t in heat anymore?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, fine. So if that’s not making you sick then what… Oh my God, you have to see Unohana! It’s dangerous and extremely difficult for male Shinigami to nurture a reiatsu chamber like that!! You could die!! And that’s without.. Ahhhh!!! Y-you had… that means that you’re… with the HOLLOW!? Ichigo, you have to get rid of it! It’s going to eat you alive from the inside out!”

She was on her feet and stalking towards him, terror plain on her face. Her eyes wide, wringing her hands, and her skin more pale than usual.

“Please, Ichigo! Tell me it’s not true! Tell me you’ll be okay! Tell me you haven’t been knocked up by an Arrancar!” Her breathing was picking up, and the desperation in her voice made him shrink back against the cabinets.

When he’d moved, and why, he wasn’t entirely sure, but something about her panic unsettled a part of him that he usually associated with Shiro. Unconsciously a low rattling hiss escaped his teeth, and white began to creep up from his fingers.

CRRACK!

The counter behind him broke in his grip, startling them both, and they jumped to opposite sides of the room, staring at the place where a chunk of wood had been torn away. Ichigo blinked down at his hand, where the red fur had appeared at his wrist and his nails dug into the missing counter piece like talons.

“I… think you’d better go…” He said, shakily, and looked up at her pleadingly, “Please don’t say anything to anyone?”

Rukia shook her head, not speaking, slowly backing towards the door. By the time she reached it, she found her voice enough to say, “You need help, Ichigo. This isn’t safe.”

Then she was gone, and an emptiness chilled him from the core.

It felt like hours before he could move from the kitchen, and when he had it was only to curl up on the bed, wrapped up in blankets with the pillows between himself and the door. Logically that would do nothing against intruders, and it wasn’t like there were actual intruders to worry about anyway. But Shiro said it was a normal response to stress and fear, and Ichigo was mature enough to admit he was terrified of what Rukia was going to do…

And who she was going to tell…

He had a contingency plan, but he really didn’t want to execute it. He would if he had no choice, but… if he didn’t have to…

When he dozed off he wasn’t sure but the next thing he knew strong arms were holding him and a heavy purr vibrated against his back. The scent of minty pine trees washed over him a second before cerulean flooded his mindscape. He smiled, stretching his arms and legs out to their fullest extension, and a warm palm slid into his shihakusho, across his stomach with gentle possessiveness. It warmed him from the inside out, drawing a chirr from his throat.

“Hey, Kitten.” Grimmjow rumbled, mouthing his ear.

“Grrrm.” He answered, without articulating.

The feline’s nose tucked behind his ear and his teeth guided his lips to suck on the skin. Like a line of flowers, Ichigo’s chakras opened to his Alpha’s reiatsu.

“So hungry.”

Huffing slightly at the laugh in his mate’s tone, the ginger pressed closer, “It’s been days, Grimm. We’re starving!”

Grimmjow chuckled, slipping his other hand under his Beta’s waist to untie his hakama, kosode, and shitagi. “Then I’d best get right to it, hm?”

Ichigo’s hands flew to his Alpha’s wrists. “Wait!”

“What is is, Kitten?” That was when the tension in the shorter man’s body registered. “Something’s spooked you. What? I’ll tear it limb from limb, just name it!”

“It’s just…” He hesitated. “...Rukia…”

Grimm hissed, “I knew that bitch was trouble. Where’s she at, Kitten? I’ll bring you her Soul Name to devour!”

“NO! N-no. She just…” The Beta shuddered, “She knows.”

At some point, he couldn’t pinpoint when, his instincts had stopped registering her as a pack member. Just that she knew he was carrying was anxiety inducing, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to be removed from the Cycle of Rebirth. He couldn’t say he wasn’t tempted by the idea of siccing Grimmjow on her anyway though.

So to soothe his own bloodthirsty desires and his mate’s confusion, Ichigo supplied, “If you went after her, the whole of Soul Society would know you were here. And then where would we be?”

Grimmjow grumbled but conceded the point by pulling his Beta even closer, and burying his nose in the soft orange spikes on the top of his head. “So what can I do?”

“Let me suck you off?”

A rolling laugh burbled up from somewhere around the Alpha’s diaphragm until he was cackling over Ichigo’s head with it, teeth bare and eyes closed. “Yer killin’ me, Kitten!”

The ginger snickered, twisting around to face him, coy smile on his mouth that meant the influx of reiatsu was having its intended effect. He snaked his arms around Grimmjow’s neck and rolled his hips. A low chirr, enticing and primal, accompanied the application of teeth and lips against the underside of Grimm’s chin.

“Told ya…” he mumbled, “we’re starving!”

Another laugh preceded the Alpha rolling them both so that his mate was on top of him, and kneaded his hips, answering the slow grind. “Just don’t bite off more than you can take, Kitten.”

Ichigo growled in response, tearing the muscle shirt that was both visual camouflage over his signature scar, and a reiatsu suppressor. Once it was broken, it felt like the floodgates opened. The cerulean in Ichigo’s mind became a deluge of cleansing rain, cooling and nourishing. So unlike the storms of the Beta’s emotions. His internal half bathed in it, holding the tiny ball of energy that was their precious cargo out to get drenched.

Externally, Ichigo latched onto the gnarled scar tissue, sucking bruises into it. Grimm arched into the drain, groaning deeply, and palming his Beta’s ass with both hands as their dicks rubbed together in alignment. Slowly the ginger moved down, working his way towards his prize by pulling on each of his Alpha’s chakras in order. The lower he dipped the higher Grimm grew. Until Ichigo was sucking on the V-line of the feline’s hips, and a keening moan accompanied his claws digging into the skin of Ichigo’s shoulders.

By then he was straining for friction.

Amber-gold eyes flicked up to take in the splayed out desperate sight as the Beta wrapped his hand around his dick. For a suspended moment, they matched wills. Beta, stronger by far and allowing the dominance, and Alpha, falling farther and farther into something akin to love for the opportunity to have control over someone that far above his station.

Then it was broken and Ichigo devoured the entirety of Grimmjow’s length in a single long pull. The Alpha yowled, arching into the heat and tearing the blanket beneath his claws. The rhythm the Beta set up was entirely built on the way he’d worked through opening his mate’s chakras. So the pleasure was a single connected line from crown to dick through the feline’s inner world. Like sucking on a milkshake, Ichigo drained his mate’s reiatsu, aiming the draw to go deeper as Grimmjow’s body grew tight with impending climax. He took him to the root and hummed.

Then, making eye contact, he swallowed!

The Arrancar’s eyes rolled back into his head and orgasm rippled through him with a gush of semen and reiatsu in pulsing waves.

Once Ichigo had taken it all, he sat back, licking his lips and purring. He sighed, sated. Then he crawled up his Alpha’s body, slinking slowly until they were in alignment again, and nuzzled up under his chin. He knew the other man was on verge of passing out, but happily he had enough presence of mind left to wrap his Beta up in his arms and purr to him, deep and content.

This correlated internally as fine-boned hands, cupped the inner Hollow’s cheeks. The Old Man gathered the ball of reiatsu into his cloak, and left the white-haired Beta to his mate. Pantera, in all her glory, drew Shiro into her arms, kissing him gently, and running her fingers through his hair. With the reiatsu ball formed between King and Sexta, there was no rush for the internal counterparts to consummate their own bond. They had time to explore each other, and with Grimmjow spending most of his time pouring his reiatsu into it, the sword spirit didn’t have the energy for the sort of frenzied mating that was required to seal the connection anyway. Which, to Shiro, was just fine, as he spent most of his own turning the firestorm that was his King’s reiatsu into a gentle trickle for the delicate ball.

So, Shiro curled into her shoulder, lazily nuzzling her ear and long, sky blue hair. Idly, he traced the pattern of her leopard spots. She purred to him, grooming his hair with her tongue, and ticking the end of her tail to the beat of his heart. Sapphire eyes glanced at the Old Man for a moment, and she smiled.

It was an unusual arrangement compared to how things like this had gone in the past for the feline sword spirit, but if one asked, she couldn’t say she didn’t like it. Having a third spirit to keep an eye on the reiatsu ball in this transitional phase of development was priceless. It gave her more of a chance to really get to know her Master’s Beta, and the spirits that lived in his mindscape.

On one paw, she felt it made her a little bit lazy. But on the other…

Shiro was nuzzling up to her ear and sucking on it, grabbing at her hips possessively, if still languid with the work of collecting Grimmjow’s reiatsu. He drew them down into one of the buildings so they could cuddle on a surface that wasn’t made of steel and glass. Especially as nowadays the cityscape was quite a bit more wild, with random patches of jungle, and sharp, jagged buildings instead of symmetrical skyscrapers that had always been. Exciting and new, maybe, but not so good for curling up in the wake of an excellent orgasm.

So he took her to his nest. Deep within the buildings, and piled high with blankets, pillows, and other soft things. As soon as they landed, the Old Man was there with the reiatsu ball to tuck it into a corner, well-protected, but still in sight. Then he left them to their bonding. Someone had to keep an eye on the King after all. Shiro and Pantera appreciated it, but were far more interested in enjoying each other.

For the moment, life was good.

On the other side of Seireitei, in a shadowed room lined with computer monitors, someone was listening in on a conversation between Rukia and her captain. The diminutive fukutaicho was on her knees, a handkerchief clutched between her hands, and tears poured down her face as she spoke about what had happened in the clearing six weeks ago.

“And I have reason to think he’s still sneaking in to see Ichigo! Taicho! What if he ends up like Kaien-sama!?”

“I’m glad you came to me, Rukia, but I have to say I think you’re overreacting. Even if the Arrancar is still breaking into Soul Society, it’s doubtful he would be able to overpower, Kurosaki-san.” Ukitake frowned, not quite as sure of his words as he wanted to be. “I will discuss it with Unohana-taicho and the Sotaicho. I think, in the meantime, you should go home. Talk to your brother about this. Lately, of all of us, Byakuya has had the most luck in getting Kurosaki-san to listen to reason.”

“But! What the preg—”

“Rukia!” Something flashed across the white-haired captain’s face. “Go home. Everything will be fine.”

She stilled, biting her lip, and nodded stiffly. She seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking up, and as she stood, she bowed so her hair covered her mouth, whispering to her captain.

He nodded and smoothed the fabric of his haori over his lap.

Then she disappeared off camera, hurrying back to the Kuchiki Estate.

The figure watching the computer folded their hands, their nails clicking together. “Well now, Ukitake, who’d have thought you would be somewhat intelligent. No matter. I’ve learned enough.” They clicked off the screen, plunging the room into absolute darkness again. “So, an Arrancar in Seireitei. Fufufufufufufufufu. That should make things quite interesting! And if there is one here, there are sure to be more _there_. Fascinating!”

A door opened on the other side of the room and a man’s voice called softly, “Taicho. That footage you asked for from the surveillance of the Fifth is ready.”

“EXCELLENT!” The captain crowed, surging to their feet. “The Central 36 will be quite… _interested_ to see what our ‘allies’ are up to when they aren’t watching!”

As the pair left their division, neither noticed the black cat scamper from tree branch to tree branch over the wall and down the street, tail high and whiskers set. Kisuke wouldn’t be pleased with how fast things were moving. They had all hoped they had a few more weeks, another month at least. Hachi had to be warned. Was the warehouse even ready? Had anyone briefed Isshin? She didn’t think so. They hadn’t had enough time…


End file.
